The North in the "Old English Orosius": A Geographical Narrative in Context 9519040293, 9789519040295

Table of contents :
Preface v
List of figures and maps xi
Abbreviations xii
1. INTRODUCTION
1.1. Aim and outline 1
1.2. Earlier research 6
1.3. Method 19
1.4. Definition of terms 35
2. THE NORTH IN ANCIENT AND EARLY MEDIEVAL GEOGRAPHY
2.1. Greek sources 42
2.2. Roman sources 55
2.3. Late antique and early medieval sources 84
2.4. Conclusions: local perceptions, images, and settings 139
3. THE NORTH IN ANGLO-SAXON GEOGRAPHY
3.1. Between north and south 151
3.2. Ancestral geography 161
3.3. Sources for King Alfred's reign 179
3.4. Late Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Norman sources 190
3.5. Old English poetry 200
3.6. The Anglo-Saxon "mappa mundi" 221
3.7. Conclusions: the inherited, mythological, and observed North 251
4. THE NORTH IN THE "OLD ENGLISH OROSIUS"
4.1. Literary history 259
4.2. Ohthere: his life and wealth 281
4.3. The geography of the North: from the White Sea to Hedeby 320
4.4. "Finnas", "Terfinnas", and "Scridefinnas" 373
4.5. "Cwenas" on the northern border of Germania 386
4.6. Estland: waterways and rituals 402
4.7. Space at sea: voyages and maritime perspectives 447
4.8. Conclusions: the geography of lands, peoples, and resources 469
5. GEOGRAPHICAL NARRATIVE OF THE NORTH AND THE ALFREDIAN CONTEXT
5.1. The North as a geographical narrative 480
5.2. Northern geography in the Alfredian context 506
5.3. Conclusions: geographical realities, identities, and histories 555
6. CONCLUSION 565
APPENDIX: PERIODICITY 575
BIBLIOGRAPHY 576
INDEX OF MANUSCRIPTS 656
INDEX OF PEOPLE 657
INDEX OF PLACES 664

Citation preview

M f-mi mu;s nr i a S íxihti': NiiomiLOLociiQur, dk H elsinki Depilis 1893 ki Socictc Néophilologiquc de Helsinki publie une série d’études eonsaerée nux Iungues modernes, Mémoires de la Société Néophi/ologique de Helsinki. Voir nussi http://www.helsinki.fi /jarj/ufy/. TOME UI (1997, 503 p., % 50.00): To Explain the Present: Studies in the Changing English Language in Honour of Matti Rissanen, edited by Terttu Nevalainen & Leena Kahlas-Tarkka. TOME U li (1998, 328 p., $ 45.00): Päivi Pahta, Medieval Embryology in the Vernacular: The Case of De Spermate. TOME LIV (1998, 208 p., $ 40.00): Maria Salenius, The Dean and his God: John Donne’s Concept of the Divine. TOME LV (1999, 294 p., $ 43.00): Minna Palander-Collin, Grammati cal ization and Social Embedding: l THINK and METHINKS in Middle and Early Modem English. TOME LVI (1999, 222 p., $ 40.00): Arja Nurmi, A Social History of Periphrastic DO. TOME LVIJ (1999, 283 p., $ 43.00): Mervi Helkkula-Lukkarinen, Construction de la scene d’énonciation dans A la recherche du temps perdu . TOME LVIII (2000, 270 p., $ 43.00): Päivi Koivisto-Alanko, Abstract Words in Abstract Worlds: Directionality and Prototypical Structure in the Semantic Change in English Nouns of Cognition. TOME LIX (2001, 287 p., $ 43.00): Aune Österman, “Where your treasure is, there is your hearf’: A corpus-based study of THERE compounds and THERE/WHERE subordinators in the history of English. TOME LX (2002, 362 p., 45.00 €): Seija Kerttula, English Colour Terms: Etymology, Chronology, and Relative Basicness. TOME LXI (2002, 378 p., 45.00 €): Variation Past and Present: VARIENG Studies on English for Terttu Nevalainen, edited by Helena Raumolin-Brunberg, Minna Nevala, Arja Nurmi and Matti Rissanen. TOME LXIl (2003, 470 p., 45.00 €): Heli Tissari, LOVEscapes: Changes in prototypical senses and cognitive metaphors since 1500.

M émoires de la S oáété N éophilologique de H elsinki (édités par Juhan i Härmä, Jarm o K orhonen et Terttu Nevalainen)

Tom e LX X III

M émoires de la Société N éophilologique de H elsinki Tome LXXIII

The N orth in the Old English Orosius A Geographical Narrative in Context by Irmeli Valtonen

H elsinki 2008 Société N éophilologique

© Irm eli Valtonen 2008 ISBN 978-951-9040-29-5 ISSN 0355-0192 Gummerus Kirjapaino O y Vaajakoski 2008

Preface At a place and time when multidisciplinarity was still uncommon, Pentti Koivunen of Oulu University, an insightful lecturer of archaeology, pointed me in the direction I have attempted to follow in this doctoral dissertation. When I asked for his advice as my archaeology teacher on how to choose multidisciplinary topic for my MA thesis, which was to be submitted to the Department of English, he asked me whether I had heard of Ottar. My reply was apparendy not satisfactory, since I was prompdy asked to follow Mr Koivunen to a library, where he determinedly took P. J. Helm's Life o f K ingÆ fred from a shelf, told me to start with it, and, just as prompdy, left me to my own apprehensive devices between the book shelves, with a red book in my hands. At first, this all seemed perplexing, but it soon became clear, that in order to study the early medieval North, one had to start in Britain. The route pointed out to me in the dusty darkness of a history library could only be followed to its, hopefully somewhat more enlightened, end through this dissertation, which discusses some of the questions which emerged after my MA thesis. The thesis concentrated on a historicalphilological interpretation of the North in the Old English Orosius. After my years as a post-graduate student at the Department of AngloSaxon, Norse, and Celtic in Cambridge, the developments in ethnicity studies and studies on early medieval geography partly altered my focus and influenced my discussion of this ninth-century narrative, which describes a large area and many peoples. Advances in the study of the reign of King Alfred further enabled a more extensive examination of the Alfredian context of the travel accounts of Ohthere and Wulfstan. However, many aspects of Anglo-Saxon archaeology and contacts across the North Sea proved to be impossible to study in Finland. The final dissertation is thus partly different from the plan that I had in Cambridge. At almost every stage of this project, from the very beginning to its completion, I have been most indebted, and happily so, to Professor Emeritus Matti Rissanen, who encouraged and helped me to continue my post-graduate research and who was my supervisor in Helsinki. I have always been able to benefit from his vast scholarly experience, wise judgement, and disarming sense of humour. Matti’s uplifting spirit and motivational thoughts never failed while he guided me steadily along scholarly paths. I have been enormously fortunate to have received his generous support and comments on various drafts of this thesis, for

VI

which I am deeply grateful. I was also most fortunate to meet Professor Risto Hiltunen at the instigation of this project. I thank him for his involvement in the creation of the opportunities which enabled me to undertake my post-graduate studies and for his evaluation of the pre­ examination version of this dissertation and the comments he made. In the specific field of my topic, I sincerely thank Professor Simon Keynes and Professor Emeritus Michael Lapidge, my supervisors in Cambridge. They taught me about the diversity of Anglo-Saxon studies, the importance of source criticism, and, most significandy, about the highest standards of scholarship. Simon, who was my supervisor for most of my time in Cambridge, always encouraged me and graciously supported my plans. I would also like to thank Professor David Dumville for his intelligent help at a vital stage in the project. Professor Stefan Brink very kindly encouraged me and gave me the opportunity to attend his remark­ able seminar series in Uppsala and he also read a pre-examination copy of my dissertation and made valuable comments, for which I thank him. For other important advice, comments, inspiration, or encouragement at various points in time I sincerely thank Professor Emeritus Evert Baudou, Professor Martin Foys, Dr Catherine Hills, Professor Sarah Larratt Keefer, Dr Kathryn Lowe, Dr Andrew Merrills, Professor Emeritus Bruce Mitchell, Professor Emeritus Bjorn Myhre, Dr Knut Odner, Professor Emeritus Ray Page, Dr Alexandra Sanmark, and Professor Emeritus Povi Simonsen. I would like to thank Professor Terttu Nevalainen for her valuable help and excellent advice, particularly in the final stage of the project. I have received particular inspiration and enjoyment from the works of Professor Nicholas Howe, who regrettably passed away when this dissertation was about to be completed. Professor Christine Fell, who also no longer is with us, was instrumental in helping me to continue my post-graduate research in Cambridge. Before he passed away, Professor Knut Bergsland advised me on matters relating to the Sami. I thank Bethany Fox for her efficient revising of the language of the text, Turo Vartiainen and Tanja Säily for their solid work on the layout and indexes in this book, and Professor Markku Löytönen and Kirsti Lehto for their expert help in the drawing of Maps 1-2. However, all remaining shortcomings in this dissertation are mine alone. I have also been able to learn from many other scholars representing a variety of disciplines. They have helped me to understand the special nature of early medieval studies and see the difficulties presented by my

vii

topic. It has always been vital for me to gain ideas and inspiration for scholarly work from natural scientists, palaeontologists, and pre-historians as well as art historians and artists, whether in the form of listening to Steven Jay Gould giving a talk at the rear end of a brontosaurus skeleton, seeing the enthusiasm of a classicist describing Bronze-Age ship-building in Greece, or following a debate among art historians concerning how nineteenth-century Scandinavian painters depicted nature. This work has been supported financially by various organizations, to which I am deeply grateful. Primary support came from the Academy of Finland and Cambridge University as well as the British Council. Other major support has been granted by the Alfred Kordelin Fund and the Wihuri Foundation. The research was also supported in part by the Acad­ emy of Finland Centre of Excellence funding for the Research Unit for Variation, Contacts and Change in English at the University of Helsinki. Varieng also provided the environment in Helsinki within which much of the work was carried out. I received travel grants from the SwedishFinnish and Norwegian-Finnish Cultural Funds and from Uppsala Uni­ versity, all of which crucially benefited the research. I thank die Modern Language Society for publishing this book in their Mémoires series. I would especially like to thank Clare College, Cambridge, for its dedication to its resident PhD students, the pleasures and benefits of which I was able to experience for four years—and still do. My thanks also go to many libraries and their staff, especially Cambridge University Library, the Parker Library at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, the Haddon Library in Cambridge, the British Library, Kungliga Biblioteket in Stockholm, the Carolina Library and the Archeology library in Uppsala, and the National Library in Helsinki. Friends and loved ones in Finland and abroad have also made this project possible, and I am most grateful to them all for their support. I particularly thank Ida, John, Kate, Lotte, Tras, and Viv and family, and the Clare College foreign post-graduate contingency. My very special thanks go to Jürg. Some of the themes in this study I have inherited from my ancestors— the intellectuals and the poets, the chroniclers and the story-tellers, the naturalists and even the funny ones—and from an international childhood in the North, for the joys of which I am grateful. This work is dedicated to the memory of my father. Helsinki, January 2008

Irmeli Valtonen

viii

CONTENTS Preface list of figures and maps Abbreviations

v xi xii

1. INTRODUCTION 1.1. Aim and outline 1 Aim 1 - Outline 3 1.2. Earlier research 6 Antiquaries and editors 6 —The twentieth century and onwards 10 Research in the North 13 - Garbled enigmas 16 - Outlooks 18 1.3. Method 19 Contexts and complexities 19 —Sources and transmission 20 Names and meanings 22 —Thought-styles and secondary literature 26 Archaeology 28 —Geography 29 —Cartography 34 1.4. Definition of terms 35 2. THE NORTH IN ANCIENT AND EARLY MEDIEVAL GEOGRAPHY 2.1. Greek sources 42 On the perception of margins 42 —Greek worldview 44 — Hyperboreans and Rhipaens 47 —Herodotus and other travellers 48 — The expanding wodd 52 2.2. Roman sources 55 Pytheas’s voyage in Strabo’s Geography 55 —Imperial initiatives 61 — Pomponius Mela 63 — Pliny the Elder 66 —The northernmost groups in Tacitus’s Germania 73 - Ptolemy’s North 79 2.3. Late antique and eady medieval sources 84 Merging worldviews 84 - Travel 86 —Influential ignorance 87 Schematic maps 88 — The North in maps 90 —The Osma Beatus 93 — Paulus Orosius 95 —Orosius and maps 99 —Cassiodorus and Jordanes 100 - Procopius 111 —Paul the Deacon 114 — From Gregory of Tours to Aethicus Ister 118 —Dicuil 123 — Carolingian histones and annals 126 - Eady missions 133 2.4. Conclusions: local perceptions, images, and settings 139 Local geographies 139 - Northern imagery 144 — Interpretative settings 147 3. THE NORTH IN ANGLO-SAXON GEOGRAPHY 3.1. Between north and south 151 On geography in Anglo-Saxon England 151 - The direction north 155 — A shift from north to south 157 —Transmission of sources 159 3.2. Ancestral geography 161

ix

The origin story 161 —Gildas 162 —Bede 164 —Bede's Thule and Scythia 170 - Bede's interest in geography 171 - On settlement archaeology 174 Vita Wilübrordi Y71 —Historia Brittonum 178 3.3. Sources for King Alfred's reign 179 Alfred and geography 179 - The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle 183 Genealogies 187 - Asser 188 3.4. Late Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Norman sources 190 The Chronicon of Æthelweard 190 - William of Malmesbury 195 Geoffrey of Monmouth 198 3.5. Old Engfish poetry 200 Associations with the North 200 - Beomlf201 - A geographical stage 203 - Finna land 207 - Sutton Hoo 210 - Widsith 213 - Ancestral locations 214 —Tribal geography 216 —The northernmost groups 218 3.6. The Anglo-Saxon mappa mundi 221 Background and focus 221 - The northern section 229 - The Norwegian peninsula 231 - The north coast and two islands 239 - The island of Island 241 —Scridefinnas in Iceland 246 - Borderlands and borderlines 248 3.7. Conclusions: the inherited, mythological, and observed North 251 The change of position 251 - The inherited North 254 The mythological North 255 - The observed North 256 - Fusion 257 4. THE NORTH IN THE OLD ENGLISH OROSIUS 4.1. Literary history 259 Manuscripts 259 —Sources 260 —Dating 262 —Translations from King Alfred's reign 265 —On authorship 268 —On themes and topics 277 — The historical reliability of the travel accounts 279 4.2. Ohthere: his life and wealth 281 The introduction of Ohthere 281 - Alfred and Ohthere 283 —Ohthere’s home 288 —Ohthere’s wealth 292 - Reindeer as a source of wealth 294 — Walrus ivory 302 - Whale- and walrus-hunting 305 — Ranks and relations 313 - Tribute payment 315 4.3. The geography of the North: from the White Sea to Hedeby 320 Northern Germania 320 —Orientation and distances 322 —The land and places of the Northmen 328 - Sea-route to Ira land 334 - The lands of the Svear337 - Uninhabited land 342 - Danish lands 344 - Denemearc 348 The North and South Danes 351 —Hedeby at the crossroads 354 — Bornholm 355 —The lands of the Beormas 356 —Linguistic placement 359 —Arrival at a river 360 —The elusive Biarmians 367 4.4. Finnas, Terfinnas, and Scridefinnas 373 Description 373 - Ohthere’s account and Sami space 375 On Finnas, Fenni, and Finnar 381 - The Terfinnas 383 4.5. Crnnas on the northern border of Germania 386

X

14Killing the Cmnas and the Cwensæ 386 —Etymological theories 388 Archaeology in Ovenland393 - Trouble in the highlands 396 j x)sl: identity 401 4.6. 1istland: waterways and rituals 402 The unknown Wulfstan 402 - The Vistula delta 405 - Baltic bonds 412 Estland. the setting of ntuals 414 - Horses in funeral rituals 420 The horse 426 - Keeping cold 429 - Local beverages 433 Aristocratic burials 437 - The distribution of property 442 4.7. Space at sea: voyages and maritime perspectives 447 The maritime background 447 - Ohthere’s Arctic voyage 450 From home to the market 456 - The voyage to Hedeby 460 Sailing to Truso 462 - Ships at sea 464 4.8. Conclusions: the geography of lands, peoples, and resources 469 The space of wealth and rank 469 - The geographical approach 471 — Physical geography 473 - Human geography 473 Economic geography 475 —Political geography 475 5. GEOGRAPHICAL NARRATIVE OF THE NORTH AND THE ALFREDIAN CONTEXT 5.1. The North as a geographical narrative 480 On geographical narratives 480 —Geographical foci 482 — Viewpoints 485 - Insiders: the informants 487 —Outsiders: the author and the reader 488 - On space and time 493 - Movement 495 — Sea, land, and central places 500 - Wilderness 504 5.2. Northern geography in the Alfredian context 506 On the significance of geography 506 - On King Alfred 510 —Explaining the Old English Orosius 514 - Make books, not war 520 —Peace deals and desires 523 - On the conversion of the North 530 - Re-evaluating the northern margin 536 —Danish lands and ancestral Angeln 539 — Gothic connections 541 - Gothic links in ancestry and poetry 546 — Baltic legends 553 5.3. Conclusions: geographical realities, identities, and histories 555 Changing geographies 555 —Realities and identities 555 —Geographical imagination 559 —Anglo-Saxon histories and Alfredian ideas 561 —The North on God’s Earth 564 6. CONCLUSION

565

APPENDIX: PERIODICITY BIBLIOGRAPHY INDEX OF MANUSCRIPTS INDEX OF PEOPLE INDEX OF PLACES

575 576 656 657 664

xi

List o f figures and maps FIGURES 1 . T-Omap 2. North and north-west in the Anglo-Saxon mappa mundi 3. The Anglo-Saxon mappa mundi: relative positions of the features in figure 2 4. The geography of Germania 5. Voyages, directions, and geography in Ohthere’s account 6. Wulfstan’s voyage 7. The Vistula Mouth 8. The horse race in Wulfstan’s account

90 230 231 321 329 339 406 421

MAPS 1. The British Isles and the North: places and waterways mentioned in the text 2. Fennoscandia and the Baltic region: places, lands, and provinces mentioned in the text 3. The Anglo-Saxon mappa mundi. London, BL Cotton Tiberius B.v, pt. 1, fol. 56v.

xv xvi 222

ABBREVIATIONS

AAAI

American Association of Artificial Intelligence

AB

Annales Bertiniani

acc. ACMRS AEMS ANF ARF ASC ASE ASNC ASPR ASSAH BAR BEASE

accusative Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies American Early Medieval Studies Arkivfö r Nordisk Filologi Annales Regni Francorum Anglo-Saxon Chronicle Anglo-Saxon England Department of Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic. Cambridge The Anglo-Saxon Poetic Records Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History British Archaeological Reports Lapidge, Michael, John Blair, Simon Keynes and Donald Scragg (eds.) 1999: The Blackwell Encyclopaedia of Anglo-Saxon England British Library Julius Caesar Council for British Arhaeology Corpus Christianorum Series Latina Central European University Centre de Recherches Archéologiques et Historiques Médiévales. Caen, France Cambridge Studies in Anglo-Saxon England Center for the Study of Language and Information. Stanford, CA Danish language dative Bede, De Locis Sanctis Cancik, Hubert and Helmuth Schneider (eds.) 1996-2003: Der Neue Pauly* Enzyklopädie der Antike Bede, De Natura Rerum Dictionary of Old English Corpus Bede, De Temporibus Bede, De Temporum Ratione Early English Manuscripts in Facsimile Encomium Emmae Reginae Early English Text Society OS Original series SS Supplementary series Early Medieval Europe English Studies Eurasia Septentrionalis Antiqua European Union Finnish language Finno-Ugric

BL Caes. CBA CC SL CEU CRAHM CSASE CSLI Da. dat. DLS DNP DNR DOE DT DTR

EEMF EER

EETS EME ES ESA

EU Fi. FU

Gneuss Goth. HB Hdt. HE ICAZ IE ILSL IMC ISAS JEGP Jord. Ker KLNM KVHAA Lat. m. MA MGH

MLN MLR MMS

MnE Mnlce NHill 1990. 11 Magennis 2001: 96.

22 The North in the Old English Orosius

place predominantly in an oral setting in early medieval northern Europe. In oral culture, history and mythology fuse in explaining the world; this fact underlines some of the arguments in sections 3.5 and 5.2. The origins of such knowledge cannot usually be traced, which means that we must assume the existence of a class of fluid and potentially ever-changing knowledge which was used by authors for their own purposes and in their own way. This is perhaps reflected in the geographical introduction at the beginning of the OE Or:, where there are references to speaking or reciting the text publicly.42 It is possible that access to textual information about northern Europe was not restricted to the literate, but was available to some sections of the rest of the population. It is not possible to establish die historical reliability of all the infor­ mation in the sources, due to a lack of corroborating evidence. Stricdy speaking, most of the information about the North is not historically verifiable, but it is believable and probable. The desire to determine his­ torical reliability is a modem one; medieval scribes or audiences did not approach information in the same way as we do, but had their own desire for truthfulness. Medieval distinctions between truth, objectivity, and story-telling were different from our contemporary scholarly definitions. However, excessive caution and uncertainty is not recommendable in source evaluation, either. Names and meanings All the important ancient and early medieval textual representations of the North have been extensively discussed by historians and philologists and by German and Nordic scholars in particular.43 For instance, such con­ cepts as Scadinavia, Scandia, Goths, and Fenni have received much atten­ tion. Scholars have reconstructed details, looked for etymologies, and identified names with archaeological cultures or ancestors of present-day nations.44 Early identifications were often based on assumptions of bio­ 42 For literacy not being restricted to a small elite in early medieval Europe (8th and 9th centuries) and the interdependence of oral and written forms of commu­ nication in every aspect of life in the Early Middle Ages, see McKitterick 2004: 67, and references therein. For the participation of all social classes in the oral transmission of entertainment or information, see Dumville 1996. 43 The bibliography on the subject is vast. See my Bibliography or, as examples, Ahlenius 1898-1899; Dedefsen 1904; Weibull 1934; Wessén 1969; Pekkanen 1984; and the entries on group- and places-names in DNP, KLNM , and RGA. 44 This was already a common practice in the Middle Ages, when interpretations

Introduction 23

logical or cultural continuity or descent and nationalistic or evolutionary notions which seem erroneous when viewed from a modem perspective.45 Approaches to sources were less critical than in recent years; on the other hand, modem criticism can become overly severe. In general, recent scholarship does not regard representations of illit­ erate populations by literate societies as reliable historical sources, but in­ stead they are seen as textual tools or literary artefacts, serving the ideo­ logical motives of the authors in their historical context. According to Goffart, texts were literary arguments, whose authors made a point about the present of their societies by deploying classical historiographical and rhetorical traditions in representing the past.46 There is also the problem of the simplistic representation of oral versus written memory as a dichotomy, and the often automatic attachment of oral tradition with archaic origins and literacy with classical learning and the transplantation of texts from a Latin culture.47 Scholars continuously emphasize the com­ plexity of interpreting and understanding the processes that produced the evidence. Furthermore, since representations of peoples and places ultim­ ately define the author’s own culture and values, and since the oral and written forms of memory are flexible forms of carrying information and meanings, we cannot expect that the extant sources will convey the whole body of traditions that existed in the author’s culture. Critical approaches often emphasize the fictional or rhetorical nature of ethnographic or geographical representations, but this should not ex­ clude the likelihood that some descriptions of the North include reliable information and memories of real phenomena, although these can be elusive due to the lack of supporting evidence. There is no easy way to approach a text as both a reliable and a rhetorical source. Marincola thinks that evidence from ancient historians themselves, who are the primary objects of his study, can be used to justify one approach at one time and another at another time, since the authors can have no concern for what really happened or are content to record traditions regardless of how truthful they are considered to be.48

could be arbitrary and much more fantastical. 45 Reynolds 1998: 28-31. 4r>Goffart 1988; Goffart 2006. 47 Pohl 2000:16. 48 Marincola 2001: 7.

24 The North in the Old English Orosius

One of the most examined themes, and one which is significant here, since the material in this study describes peoples and their lands, is the ethnic process.49 Ethnic identity is currently understood to be a flexible and situational construct which depends on circumstances. It exists in relation to others, and changes when relationships change. Ethnic iden­ tities are to a great extent the result of actions and decisions and the com­ munication of the differences created by these within the community and to outsiders.50 It is argued that early medieval groups were often poly­ ethnic, fluid, or unstable, and that identities could be layered.51 Studies on ethnicity and the ethnic process have not yet resolved the problems of how to differentiate a contextual and situational ethnicity in the past.52 Authors and their sources differentiated groups from each other using group-names, ethnonyms, or descriptions of particular fea­ tures of identity. These names and definitions are anchor-points in the representations of other peoples and lands, but identifying geographical, archaeological, or cultural groups which correspond with these names is often difficult, and definitions are ambiguous. Many groups may have been genetically, linguistically, culturally, and economically homogeneous, but their identity may have been flexible and had the capacity to diversify. The use of ethnic names was often limited and they might be used for military or political aims, for example, although they might have originated as collective names given by the people to themselves. Thus, names in early texts are not necessarily reliable ethnic designations.53 In a discussion of these names and definitions, it is important to make a distinction be­ tween material culture, language, and gens (group, tribe), which refer to different phenomena.54 Environmental factors are related to linguistic and

49 Ethnic processes and identity are dealt with in most recent monographs or col­ lections on early medieval history and culture. For an introduction and further references, see Pohl and Reimitz 1988; Wolfram 1988; Geary 2002a: 15-40; Gillett 2002; Goffart 2006; Wood 1997-. 50 Pohl 1998: 19. Wickham (2005: 83) points out that there is some truth in most of the subsequent theories on different ethnicities because of the complex and varied reality in the post-Roman West. 51 Cf. Wood 1998: 299. 52 Cf. Hakenbeck 2004: 1-3. 53 Geary 1983: 22,25. 54 The contemporary terms gens (tribe) or ethnos (people) are used in scholarship to refer to groups.

Introduction 25

cultural diversity. Artefacts can have ethnic significance within a known frame of reference even though they may not be ethnic signifiers. The actual meaning of names, however, often comes from their precise temporal, geographical, and cultural contexts, but because of the many uncertainties, the concept of ethnicity (or race or tribe) can be regarded as a rather futile one. Group-names may not be ethnonyms and may differ gready in their meaning or reference in different sources. Some names may not describe the reality of the population, or they may not refer to entire political, cultural, and geographical communities at the same time. We cannot always be sure whether the meaningfulness given to a name, place, or group is really characteristic of the interpreter or the original context, i.e. whether interpreters create meaning or whether their deduc­ tion objectively uncovers the real meaning. The interpretation becomes a hermeneutic circle of the conception of a commentator, an author, and the local people.55 This approach should not be too harshly criticized, however, as we have no comprehensive solutions for how to examine these issues. New interpretations will guarantee that the circle is still openended. The idea of continuity of meaning of groups and group-names has become illogical. For instance, Tacitus’s Suiones cannot be equated with OE Sweony ON Svtar, Svear; or present-day Swedes, since the meaning could not have been exacdy the same due to historical, cultural, and linguistic changes. Other examples are Ptolemy’s Suiones or Goutai, which may have meant a large confederation of peoples which fluctuated and changed over time and “only had an uncertain core in common with later units”. These and other names used by early authors are “extremely difficult to connect with a later territorial framework”.56 The Goths are an example of a people whose history has been created from descriptions of peoples who are referred to by many different names, e.g. (possibly) Gutones, Ostrogothe., Visigothe, and Getae. In the study of early medieval gentes, the purpose is no longer to look for a homogeneous organized population living in a certain space who would have had a homogeneous self­ perception and would have been perceived as homogeneous from outside. It has been noted that groups constituted space more often than space constituted groups: space was centred around the group.57 55 Cf. Lund 1993: 47. 56 Callmer 1991: 258. 57 Kleinschmidt 2000: 36.

26 The North in the Old English Orosius

However, the above uncertainties do not counter the likelihood that the idea of 'a people’ (gens, nation, populus) as a natural community with its own history, culture, law, mythology, and possibly language was already well established in Western Europe by 900 although they were not normally envisaged as constituting kingdoms. For instance, in England there were many kingdoms although the people were perceived, at least textually, as a single people, the English. Thus literary manifestation may have differed from the everyday reality of the people.58 In this study, ‘group’ and ‘people’ are used to refer to populations, which are referred to by group-names in ancient and medieval sources, regardless of whether their actual political organization or ethnic homo­ geneity is known. The names indicate some kind of sense of belonging together as perceived by someone, insider or outsider, during the naming process. Of course, some of these names may be imaginary or misunder­ standings, and these can be difficult to discover. The places which these groups occupied, or were perceived to live in, were conceptually created by the authors through the use of place-names or descriptions of the places. This study examines these representations, and one such represen­ tation in particular. Problems of identification and ethnicity are real, but we must still find some meaning in ancient and medieval names and places and examine them in comparison with other evidence, since otherwise any name or perception would be meaningless. For this reason, some groupand place-names are translated, when possible, into MnE. Thought-styles and secondary literature The geographical focus of this study raises other methodological problems. The North has often been perceived as peripheral in literature from southern and central Europe, but it is often overlooked that within the North itself there is a separation between south and north and be­ tween central and peripheral regions. These attitudes from outside and within the North have translated into studies of northern Norway, Sweden, and Finland which have included value-loaded generalizations, such as descriptions of a sparse and nomadic population, absent or retarded social, technical, or economic development, the arrival of pro­ gress from the south, and the north as a source of raw materials for the south. There have been and still are over-arching modes of interpretation in the secondary literature. The emergence of a ‘Northern thought-style’ in 58 For the idea of ‘a people’, see Reynolds 1984: 250-261.

Introduction 27

archaeology, human geography and other disciplines and the attention given to specific northern lifestyles and developments since the 1970s are relatively new phenomena, and have not fully replaced the ‘Southern thought-style’.59 Biased perceptions of a peripheral Fennoscandia can be detected in commentaries on Ohthere’s and Wulfstan’s accounts. In general, the ac­ counts are perceived as extraordinary sources, but the importance of the information about such issues as economies, interaction, and the travel­ lers’ wide knowledge is not fully recognized. Probably pardy due to the men’s high status and story-telling abilities, life in the North gained inde­ pendent value in a book of world history; the record of this is a highly ideological act. A historical interpretation of the accounts relies largely on earlier scholarship, and consequendy it is unavoidable that Southern and Northern thought-styles will be mixed. Some topics have been addressed by scholars with a fuller understanding of life in the North in the past, whereas other details have been studied only from a southern perspective. These psychological premises are not discussed in scholarship, but are obvious from a reading of the secondary literature. Scholars’ discussions of the North as presented in the OE Or. varies according to their degree of familiarity with the North. This creates an inevitable imbalance in an analysis such as this which uses earlier scholarship. Another problem is the fact that most of the sources used in this study have been studied on numerous occasions, which can make some of them unstable, i.e. dependent upon a wide range of interpretations. Although these situations are unavoidable, they need to be acknowledged. Attempts at a balanced treatment of the material are hindered by yet another factor. The sources have not been studied to an equal degree from each viewpoint or on their own terms in their contemporary context. For instance, some standard editions or translations are from the nine­ teenth century, while others are much more recent. Thus, comparison of their textual status is complicated. However, this, along with other unreliabilities concerning the sources, is accepted in medieval studies. In addition to these problems, there is a peculiar circumstance which concerns Ohthere’s account. It describes a situation where a person is interviewed and reveals close details of his life and experiences, making 59 For thought-styles in archaeology and the prehistory of Norrland, see Loeffler 2005: especially p. 194.

28 The North in the Old English Orosius

him somehow familiar and real, and yet both the interview event and Ohthere remain unknown and distant both temporally and culturally. The reader is placed between an intimate and a foreign context, perceiving familiarity and strangeness. Additionally, the recorded details are punc­ tuated by silences that leave the reader at times puzzled but at other times believing that likely explanations are nevertheless possible to reach. The reader is drawn into Ohthere’s world but ultimately cannot be certain that s/he has understood it correcdy. These two sensations create an effect which makes the account intriguing and challenging. Archaeology However sparse or inaccurate they may be in our view, the sources for the North describe for the most part a real and concrete place where a variety of communities existed and left traces of their life but not narrative evidence. The material dates primarily from periods that were prehistoric in the North. Some societies using runes can be regarded semi-literate or literate, but there are no textual sources produced in the North prior to the OE Or, For this reason, the historical interpretation relies on advances in archaeology. Theories based on archaeological finds can bring us closest to Viking Age reality. My intention is not to reconstruct a full archaeological context for the textual references, but to use the texts as a starting point for the discus­ sion and see where the two meet. The texts create a context where mean­ ings and perceptions ascribed to the relevant archaeological data and theories can be assessed. The aim is to avoid a circular argument which would create a context for the text by first creating this context on the basis of the same text.60 This can take place if no corroborative evidence is available. A literary approach inevitably reduces archaeology into a sup­ porting role, and I rely on secondary archaeological literature. It is not possible in this study to use archaeology to its full capacity, since that would expand the work unreasonably. Some of the main advantages of incorporating archaeology are that archaeological material represents the remains of social interaction within or between groups, individuals or classes, foreign groups, the environ­ ment, and the materials that were created. The remains carry messages that are nevertheless subject to our interpretation, and it is not a straight­ forward task to find corresponding archaeological entities for historical 60 Cf. Howe 1997: 84.

Introduction 29

group- or place-names. It is not always clear whether cultural variation or traits, such as a brooch style or a pottery stamp, can be regarded as ethnic markers, and how to interpret their diffusion. Medieval archaeologists and especially historians have discussed vari­ ous problems in, and sometimes reluctance towards, the assessment of textual and archaeological evidence together. Although there cannot be a fully integrated understanding of a past illiterate society on the basis of a combined view, due to the fragmentary nature of the evidence in both disciplines, the achievements of textual criticism and the development of archaeological theory and methods have improved the situation. Potential discrepancies, e.g. the unreliability of sources, must be accepted, but there is a need for hypotheses for the examination of texts and archaeological material together.61 In other words, neither body of evidence can be sub­ jected to the probabilities, results, or chronology of the other without careful consideration. If there is no agreement between textual and archaeological interpretations, it is not necessary, in principle, to regard one as more probable than the other, but we must instead acknowledge the different nature of the evidence and methods. Geography The catalogue of Germania and the travel accounts in the OE Or, can be primarily characterized as geographical, in the modem understanding of geography. According to a broad definition, geography, ‘earth writing5 (Gr. geo, ‘earth5, graphein, ‘to write5), studies the relations between society and the natural environment.62 The Koyal Geographical Society in Britain defines geography in the following way:63 Geography is the integrated study of the earth’s landscapes, peoples, places and environments. It is about the world in which we live. It is unique in bridging the social sciences (human geography) with the understanding of the dynamics of cultures, societies and economies, and the earth sciences (physical geography) in the understanding of the dynamics of physical landscapes and environmental processes.

It is in this wider sense, rather than in its primary meaning as a study of the earth’s features, that geography is understood in this study. 61 Hodges 1989:12; Austin 1990; Malina and Vasicek 1990: 106-113,251; Theuws 2000; Gillett 2002; Hines 2004: 26-36. 62 De Blij and Murphy 2003: 4-5. 63 The Royal Geographical Society website: cWhat is Geography?’.

30 The North in the Old English Orosius

At the outset, it should be established that space, geography, and geographical accuracy, as we understand them today, did not exist in Antiquity or in the Middle Ages. There was no field of study, independent discipline, or body of knowledge that was perceived as geography. It can be argued that geography was a kind of literary genre, somewhere between science and storytelling. When it figured in discussions of the classification of sciences, it was always in the context of another discipline. These contexts indicate how geographical knowledge functioned. It belonged primarily to the field of knowledge about the created world, and is found in various textual genres, having various functions in various contexts; it was allegorical, educational, encyclopaedic, spiritual or meditative, and could be found in prose and in poetry. If geography was taught in early medieval schools, it was sometimes part of the quadrivium belonging to geometry or physica and sometimes it had a value as geography per se. It was often of pure theoretical character and served purposes other than those of everyday life, although it also had a practical value for people such as pilgrims. Thus, there was an uncertainty about the field which imparted fluidity to geographical descriptions.64 However, some geographical narratives possessed a certain self-suffi­ ciency in their subject; there are classical and medieval prosaic and poetic sources which were entirely concerned with geography. In addition to texts that dealt with a geographical subject, geographical descriptions were embedded in historical, cosmographical, computistical, and theological texts. Knowledge of places was of utmost importance for explaining the Bible and the God-created world in the Christian context, particularly in Augustinian ideology. Interaction between time and place was everywhere. The conceptual link between the spatial and temporal dimensions had already been made by Greek scholars in their discussions of various forms of knowledge in periplus (descriptions of voyages), periodos (descriptions o f the earth), and periegesis (descriptions of specific lands or places), which dealt with geographical subjects.65 The time-place connection is particularly import­ ant for history, so much so that geography had a central role in early Christian historiography. In Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, the 64 Kimble 1938: 1-2; Romm 1992: 3-5. Lozovsky (2000) discusses the terminology used for geographical knowledge and the place of geography in the classification of knowledge in the Early Middle Ages. 65 Sauer 1997: 298.

Introduction 31

changes in Europe challenged historical as well as geographical writing, both of which needed to express new ideologies and circumstances. Areas were brought into texts when they became historically meaningful and worthy of extended attention.66 It was only much later, in the sixteenth century, that a real revolution in geography took place in Europe. Geographical knowledge became a practical matter of experience, concerned with measuring and describing, naming, and transcribing the visible world. Space became more uniform and homogeneous.67 In the age of exploration, commerce and a desire for knowledge were integral, and produced revolutionary geographical know­ ledge. The representation of the North in the OE O k deals with a place, Germania, and life in the northernmost part of this place by reason of its location and internal spatial and ethnic organization. The author is also interested in the relationships between people and their environment. As geographical narratives, the travel accounts should be read on their own (erms and in their own context; the desires of the elite of the Alfredian period should be taken into account, as far as they can be known, and the accounts should be situated in the context of the geographical mindscape and beliefs of the Anglo-Saxons. One of the aims of this study is to explore possible motivations or intentions behind this act, and to examine why authoritative and familiar Roman geography was supplemented with new material. Medieval geography was not neutral, but had a contempla­ tive or spiritual function. Places had and have meanings when they are described and located in the world. As with material culture, text and lan­ guage, the use and meaning of place or space reflects ideological struc­ tures. The surveys of geographical descriptions and the evaluation of the complex relationship between man and place this study associate it with the early period of historical (or traditional) geography, as it is understood as a sub-field of geography rather than history,68 although sources are also explained in their ideological contexts. New methods of analyzing histor­ ical geography have not yet been fully established. For this reason, I will 66 For the relationship between history and geography, see Merrills 2005: 6-20. I thank Andy Merrills for kindly supplying me with the typescript of his book be­ fore publication. 67 McGrane 1989: 29-42. 68 Baker 1988: 8; Langton 1988:18-20; Prince 2002: 87,242-243.

32 The North in the Old English Orosius

use modem geographical categories in the analysis of the North in the OE Or. The various fields of modem geography offer opportunities for the study of past geographical conceptions, particularly since geography is an area where humanities and social sciences overlap. Geographical analyses of narratives have recendy turned from descrip­ tive to critical literary interpretations. Geography as a discipline has also changed, but not entirely. In the words of an eminent geographer of modem times, Richard Peet, “geography has changed almost beyond recognition in style and sophistication, yet it is dominated still by ancient themes.”69 Although textual representations of space are not yet scrutin­ ized to the same extent as temporal themes, the current definition of a literary space is broad; it includes anything from a place, a setting, or a room to a garden, climatic conditions, or a landscape—any space where living things or objects move or live.70 In a fragmented world where people are in search for their own place, past spaces have become increasingly interesting in the study of human space.71 Interest in geography has increased remarkably in medieval studies since the 1990s. Geographical topics, the adaptation of cultural geography, and studies of sense of place in different contexts have also found their way into Anglo-Saxon studies.72 For instance, Tomasch sug­ gests revalorizing geography as the writing of the world, and observes how texts are now territorialized and territories are textualized. She finds inspiration from geographers who emphasize the different ways in which the world is represented, how place or space is produced, and how places are connected with social life, and who search for the ideological dimen­ sions and authoritative issues behind geographical material73 In a study co-authored by Gilles, Text and Territory (1998), Tomasch sees accounts like Ohthere’s and Wulfstan’s reports as naturalized in the service of the writing culture. Anglo-Saxonists and other medievalists are thus presently 69 Peet 1998: 302. 70 Cf. Zoran 1984: 310; Jahn 2005: N6.1-2. 71 Said 2002: 245-259. 72 Overing and Osborn 1994; Tomasch and Gilles 1998; Lozovsky 2000 (Bede); Howe and Wolfe 2002b; Merrills 2005 (Bede); Lees and Overing 2006b. Unfortunately, Nicholas Howe’s posthumous collection is not included in this study, since it was published at the end of 2007; Howe, Nicholas: Writing the Map o f Anglo-Saxon England: Essays in Cultural Geography. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. 73 Tomasch 1998: 5-6.

Introduction 33

applying geographical concepts in the study of their material. According to Lees, ideas of place offer new fodder for the imagination and opportun­ ities for connection and invention; the discussions of these features in­ volve a combination of disciplines.74 Just as medievalists could and are beginning to appreciate a wider variety of perceptions of place and space, so geographers could pay more attention to medieval material. Lilley has criticized the fact that the medi­ eval period is treated as marginal in contemporary geographical thought, and that human geographers concern themselves only very litde with such concepts as the medieval city. The geographical view is too reductive, and differs from the view of medievalists, who see the period as more com­ plex. lille y asks for a more nuanced Middle Ages in geographical thought, and for the relocation of the Middle Ages in geographical discourse from the margins and Otherness. This could be achieved by reconceptualising the Middle Ages, drawing on recent critical and social theory (e.g. notions of space) or upon social and political theories of the medieval period.75 In fact, modem cultural geography has a strong historical component, and has created new connections with other disciplines, in its discussions of issues such as diversity and foreignness.76 In general, it studies geo­ graphical aspects of culture and cultural aspects of geography. Cultural geography also examines non-material aspects, such as language, power relations, ideologies, imaginary concepts, systems of meaning, ethnicity, and racism.77 According to this definition, the discussion here is also re­ lated to cultural geography, since this study addresses some of the above phenomena. Modernist sensibilities can skew interpretations of the organization and production of space in a medieval source. Concepts used in social science today have been developed for modem geography, anthropology, or narratology in the academic and economic centres of the world, and not specifically for the study of the North in a ninth-century text, to take an example. The application of these concepts involves the danger of ana­ chronism. However, the recontextualizing of these concepts can offer ways to illuminate a narrative from new perspectives. For instance, the travel accounts in the OE Or. have modem qualities as geographical 74 Lees and Overing 2006a: 2-3. 75 Lilley 2004: 682-683; cf. Spirn 1998: 16-17. 76 Clayton 2005: 338-339. 77 Gren and Hallin 2003: 220.

34 The North in the Old English Orosius

narrative, such as the integration of nature and culture, the organization of spatial units in a network, and the display of economic landscapes, although the sensibilities that produced them were different. The notion of ‘viewpoint’ is applied in chapter 5. There is no geography (or history) without an author, a viewer, or an observer. The North in the OE Or. encompasses different viewpoints, with varying levels of involvement and different vantage points, internal and external. The search for meanings in the narrative and viewpoints is just as much geography of the mind as it is geography of space, since there are many creators of the same space. The role of language, oral or written, in the perception and construc­ tion of space is recognized in cultural geography. My interest lies in geo­ graphical behaviour in the production of narrative, i.e. what spatial elem­ ents were transformed into text. Given that the space is ultimately foreign in terms of both place and time, a modern reader cannot expect to make sense of everything or to perceive them in the same way as a con­ temporary reader would have done. Geography rises from real observations, and its abstractions are based on realities, whether we can find them or not. Ancient and medieval geographical information should not be understood as an accurate repre­ sentation of reality, but as a representation of that reality transmitted by words or images (maps).78 Consequently, the historical reliability of the information and its significance to the narrating societies should be examined and questioned carefully. Cartography Some of the survey material is cartographic. In scholarship, this data is usually discussed separately from narrative sources on the North, but I have included some of the most notable world maps, such as the Beatus maps and the Anglo-Saxon mappa mündig in order to examine spatial conceptions of the North more comprehensively. Present perceptions of medieval cartography emphasize that a map is a subjective selection of features. Maps are read today as sub-texts or paper landscapes which express the ideological agendas of their creators.79 They are perceived as cultural or cartographic texts and social constructions which influence spatial organization and conception. Their purpose is to 78 Nicolet 1991: 3-4. 79 Harley 2001: 34-81; Cook 2004: 89.

Introduction 35

facilitate a spatial understanding of the human world, and to communicate ideas within a cultural and political context. Silences can be as meaningful as inscriptions, symbols, and topographical features in maps. Since the medieval mind presumably did not distinguish clearly between object, image, and text in general or between an original version and a copy, the conversion of information between the different forms of expression was common. For instance, there are narrative sources that are based on cartographic representations and vice versa. Medieval mappae mundi were not meant to be as comprehensive and accurate graphic images of the Earth’s features as modem maps. Their primary purpose was didactic and symbolic or contemplative.80 In fact, all maps are mental maps in the end.81 However, we do not know how much influence early authorities and cartographic depictions had or what kind of distortion they caused in the comprehension of the inhabited world. These ideas are taken into consideration in the discussion of the AngloSaxon mappa mundi.

1.4. Definition of terms Geographical and ethnic nomenclature for Anglo-Saxon England and the North in scholarly literature has been adopted from ancient or medieval sources or created by later scholars. Since this vocabulary is large and central to our understanding of the sources, some comments are appropri­ ate. The assumption is frequendy made that definitions and connotations which the names have acquired through literature are shared by all readers, yet this is often not the case. For this reason, names for groups and their living spaces should ideally be defined in a way which is unambiguous and accurate in various disciplines. This is also important since sometimes these names carry assumptions and messages which can lead to problems such as ethnocentric statements, and at other times there can be confusing overlap. There is some discrepancy between the use o f ethnic terminology and the present understanding of ethnicity and culture as complex concepts and continuous processes. Terminology adopted from medieval literature does not give an accurate picture of the circumstances at the time. As 80 Woodward 1987: 342. For the contemplative function, see Gautier Dalché 1994: 753-757. 81 Blackemore and Hadey 1980: 91.

36 The North in the Old English Orosius

discussed above, the same names could have had different meanings in different sources. Furthermore, when a term is taken from one kind of data and the information from another, i.e. when terminology from one discipline is applied to another, this can lead to incorrect identification. In some studies, the usage of terms is criticized or, occasionally, an explanatory note defines the central terms used.82 My intention here is not to clarify or categorize the nomenclature, but to highlight the issue by briefly discussing a few terms used in this study and other studies. As a rule, geographical narratives like the OE Or. include many group-names, ethnonyms, and topographical designations. There is no known source for many of these, and often the exact reference is unknown, which compli­ cates the task of finding corresponding modem designations; thus, it is best to use the original terms occurring in the sources. There is a myriad of colourful designations for the people of Britain in the Anglo-Saxon period which derive or are translated from various de­ scriptive or classificational origins— chronological, geographical, ethnic, art-historical, or linguistic. The use of some of these terms illustrates how they overlap and have a variety of meanings. Anglo-Saxon is a later cover term, although it was first used on the continent by Paul the Deacon in 775 in the form A ngli S'axones, and in England in King Alfred’s time, Angulseaxan. The modem usage derives from the seventeenth century.83 Other names, such as Anglian or RomanoSaxon, have occasionally been used interchangeably with Anglo-Saxon. Early, middle and late Anglo-Saxon England have both chronological and geographical meanings.84 Early, Middle and h a te Saxon, on the other hand, refer only to historical chronology, as does pre-Viking or pre-Norse. Additionally, England and English are used for the Late Anglo-Saxon period, or sometimes for the whole Anglo-Saxon period. A number of terms relate to Viking, Scandinavian, or continental inter­ action in the British Isles, e.g. Anglo-Scandinavian, Anglo-Norse, Anglo-Erisian, Hibemo-Norse and Anglo-Norman. Some designations describe more specific relations, such as Juto-Danish, Jutish-Kentish, or even Scanno-Anglian. Viking

82 For criticism, see Austin 1990: 15; Christiansen 2002: 3A; Dumville 2002: 209; Lucy 2002: 73-76; Williams 2002: 49-57. 83 Austin 1990:17; Pohl 2002: 234. 84 Early Anglo-Saxon England is usually considered to cover the period c. 450-650, middle 650-850, and late 850-1066. For Anglo-Saxon archaeology and ethnic iden­ tities, see Lucy 2000: 174-186.

Introduction 37

(or viking), Anglo-S can dinavian, Anglo-Danish, Dane, Danish,85 or Nörjtf are often used interchangeably with Scandinavian. Hart observes how AngloSaxon is often used descriptively when Anglian, Anglo-Scandinavian, AngloDanish, or Anglo-Norman would be better. He points out that it is import­ ant, when referring to sources, not to imply a precision of knowledge that cannot be defended.86 The meaning of Viking is problematic in both medieval and modem usage. If the term is used to refer to Viking behaviour, i.e. piracy and plunder, rather than ethnic or geographical meaning, then the term should include non-Scandinavian Vikings from areas like Franda or present-day Finland, but this meaning is problematic in some other contexts, such as Viking Age York.87 Hall has described how terminology changed from Danish to Anglo-Scandinavian to Viking during the research on Viking Age York, and how Viking is sometimes used to avoid repetition or for short­ hand.88 There are those who prefer to describe the new ethnicity in the ‘Northern Danelaw’ in the ninth century using terms such as AngloScandinavian rather than Viking, which does not necessarily imply a Scan­ dinavian origin or feeling of identity.89 Nevertheless, Viking has undoubt­ edly become a term of convenience used of the Viking-Age inhabitants of modem Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.90 There is a similarly varied and abundant terminology for the people of the North. The most common designations— Scandinavian, Dane, Svea,

85 Hadley (2000: 126) writes about the lumping together of ‘Danish’ and ‘North­ men’ by medieval chroniclers and the occasional misleading labelling by modern scholars of the cultures of the Scandinavian settlers in England as Danish’ or ‘Scandinavian’, although there “are often no direct antecedents in Scandinavia”. 86 Hart 1992: vii. 87 Cf. Dumville 2002: 209. 88 Hall (2000: 312-314) discusses the usage of Danes and Viking in connection with Viking Age York, and of Anglo-Scandinavian, which refers to the period 866-c. 1069 and its material culture in York. According to him, this terminology is relatively cmde as it encompasses diverse individual and group behaviour. The encyclopaedia BEASE does not include an entry on ‘Scandinavia/n’ or ‘AngloScandinaviari, although it lists entries that deal with Scandinavian phenomena in the British Isles, such as ‘Personal names, Scandinavian’ or ‘Scandinavian influ­ ence on English art’. 89 Richards 2001: 269. 90 Keynes 1999b: 460. For ‘viking sea-raider’ and other terms, see Christiansen 2002: 1-4.

38 The North in the Old English Orosius

Swede, Geat, Norwegian, Northman, Norseman, or Norse—can refer to geo­ graphical, ethnic, or linguistic contexts, or all of them, usually with little or no explanation of their historical or current meaning.91 Most of these names are used for inhabitants, communities or cultures within a tract of land which, on the basis of the context, is either 1) present-day Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, 2) vaguely the southern part of the Scandinavian Peninsula, or 3) Denmark and southern Norway. In studies on the Vikings in England, the reference of Scandinavian seems usually to be Denmark and southern Norway.92 Both Norse (West or East Norse) and Scandinavian usually refer to the language and literature of the Germanic-speaking Scandinavians, as do Old Scandinavian and Viking-Age Norse. The geographical area called Scandinavia, northern Europe, or the North is rarely defined, and these terms appear to have equally varied meanings as the above group-names. Sometimes they cover all the Nordic countries, but at others they refer only to some of them or to the Scandinavian Peninsula or its southern parts, perhaps including Denmark or the western and northern coasts of the Baltic Sea. Sometimes the geographical and ethnic meanings of Scandinavia are combined and usually the northern parts of Scandinavia, encompassing nearly half of the area of this region, are not taken into account93 This usage is more common in non-Nordic than Nordic scholarship. Some of the confusion concerning the use of Scandinavian is caused by its usage for both the Danes and the Norwegians in England, and for all or some of the inhabitants of Scandinavia. Naturally, the term refers to a 91 For criticism of the use of some of this terminology in another context, see Dumville 1989: 464. The “unfortunate connotations” of N ordic relating to the Second World War are discussed by Dumville 2002: 209. 92 An example of a presumably interchangeable usage of Dane and Scandinavian in the British Isles can be found in Innes 2000a: 67. Neither term is defined al­ though the article deals with Danish identity. Danish, on the other hand, is defined as a set of heterogeneous groups (p. 78). 93 The Nordic countries are Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Iceland, and Finland, but Nordic (Sw. Norden, FÍ. Pobfo/d) is not a geographically acceptable term. For defi­ nitions of Scandinavia, Norden, and the North, see Helle 2003b: 1-4. In everyday use, Scandinavia often means all the Nordic countries, but in a strict sense it refers only to the countries on the Scandinavian Peninsula. Fennoscandia was created by Finnish geographers and geologists in the late 19th century and denotes the Scan­ dinavian Peninsula which is joined to continental Europe by the isthmus between the Gulf of Finland and the White Sea.

Introduction 39

different society, geographical region, linguistic context, and chronological period when used about Scandinavia than it does for England.94 Another cause for confusion is that there was no Viking-Age term for what is now Scandinavia. Furthermore, the rise of ethnic processes as one of the underlying themes in early medieval studies has created uncertainty in the usage of nomenclature. The more refined, complicated, multicultural or multiethnic the picture of the past has become, the more the terminology is stretched and may need definition or modification in various contexts. Terms for local groups or territories, such as Sami, Bornholm, Scania, Vpplandish, or Halogaland, may be less confusing even when they are not defined. However, it is a commonplace to refer to the Sami or finds identified as Sami with litde or no discussion of their ethnicity in the past.95 The term Germanic, or Germani of the classical authors, often has a vague meaning. It is not always clear whether it means the speakers of a Germanic language or people with presumed Germanic ethnic or cultural characteristics. In studies of the North, the fact that people in this region spoke not only Germanic but also non-Germanic languages is frequendy ignored. The geographical, linguistic, ethnic, and cultural boundaries of present-day perceptions of Germania often appear to be as flexible as the identities of the Germani groups probably were in the Early Middle Ages. Perhaps the situation reflects the new understanding that there never was pan-Germanism, a homogeneous Germanic identity, and the term Germani in classical sources never covered all Germanic-speaking people, leaving out groups such as the Scandinavians.96 The Anglo-Saxons did not have 94 Scandinavia or Scandinavian are rarely defined at all in recent publications which deal with Scandinavia/ns. As an example, Hadley and Richards (2000b: 4) ask whether the different types of evidence for Scandinavians in England during the Anglo-Saxon period, particulady in the Danelaw, are linked to the different usages and definitions o f Scandinavian by scholars. They wonder whether there is a need to define new terms, such as Anglo-Scandinavian. The volume addresses “the diversity of the Scandinavian impact on England”, but has no definition of

Scandinavian. 95 For criticism of the use of Sami (e.g. Sami or Germanic Iron Age), see Olsen 1998. 96 For the concept of Germani, see Lund 1993: 79-98. For overlap between discip­ lines in the use of Germanic, see Wenskus 1977: 3,152-153, 218-220. Geary (1988: 50, 53) points out that the various groups never thought of themselves as one people who could be assigned a collective name, and that the groups were more

40 The North in the Old English Orosius

the concept of 'Germanic5 and authors such as Bede considered the Frisians, the Danes, and the Saxons to be gens nostra, 'our people5.97 The above discussion shows that throughout the centuries, names have acquired connotations that are difficult to lose, but that the existing terminology offers potential for both confusion and clarity, and for modification for consistency. Finally, it is time to define the terms used in this study. The North means the present-day Nordic countries. However, in order to avoid unnecessarily long phrases in the discussion of the OE Or., it is also used to include the southern Baltic, which is the main geo­ graphical focus of Wulfs tan’s account The geographical and ethnic reference of the North varies from source to source, and the literary North cannot often be defined in modem geographical terms. Scandinavia means present-day Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. Scandinavian refers to the Germanic-speaking inhabitants of the above countries, the material culture of Scandinavia, and the material culture of Scandinavian origin or influence in the British Isles. Viking is used in a general sense referring to those who live a mobile or settled Viking lifestyle, in the North or elsewhere, and who have a Scandinavian origin. The term does not include all inhabitants of the North. Southern Scandinavia is a geographical concept and means southern Sweden (Halland, Scania, and Blekinge), Denmark, and historical Schleswig. In the early medieval period, this region had a cultural unity but it was not necessarily controlled by a single political power.98 I follow D. H. Green in discarding the term German/s for groups who spoke Germanic languages or inhabited Germania, and using instead the term Germani (sg. and pi.).99 Anglo-Saxon is employed in its usual meaning as a cover term relating to the continental newcomers of the fifth century, their descendants and their extant material culture, i.e. the various regional cultures of mixed origins in England. English is used according to the convention in Anglo-Saxon studies to refer to the inhabitants of England in the Late Saxon period, i.e. the tenth and eleventh centuries, who are of

processes than stable structures. Goffart (2006) argues for a fragmented diversity of northern peoples rather than a uniform Germanic civilization. For the use of Germanic in Scandinavian scholarship, see Näsman 1999b. 97 Frank 1991: 92. 98 Näsman 1991a: 166. 99 Green 1998: 8.

Introduction 41

Anglo-Saxon or Anglo-Scandinavian background or culture unless other­ wise defined. Europe as a geographical entity extends to the Ural Mountains, down to the Caspian Sea, across Georgia and the Black Sea and down to the Mediterranean excluding Turkey. It includes the northernmost islands in the Arctic Ocean, Novaja Zemlja and Svalbard. The West is the opposite of the East, i.e. the East Baltic, eastern Europe, the Byzantine Empire, Central Asia, and the Muslim lands.

2. THE NORTH IN ANCIENT AND EARLY MEDIEVAL GEOGRAPHY

This chapter surveys the most relevant geographical knowledge of the North until c. A.D. 900.1 The purpose is to see how the geographical representation of the North changed over time and what key features are attributed to it, as well as to establish the body of literature to which the accounts of Ohthere and Wulfstan belong.2 Cartographic evidence will be included in the discussion. Orosius did not describe the North, but his impact on geography will be briefly reviewed. The medieval material sur­ veyed here constitutes a corpus of northern geography which AngloSaxon authors would potentially have inherited.

2.1. Greek sources On the perception of margins Three technical genres that describe space can be distinguished in Antiquity: topography, chorography, and geography, either textual or cartographic. Topography is the description of a single place (Gr. topos), chorography means the description of a region (khöros), a district, or a country, and geography is the description of the whole earth (gé). In practice, the difference between these genres was in their scope and attention to detail rather than in the geographical extent of the subject matter per se. Another genre, cosmography (kosmos), is the description of arrangement of the world as a whole or of the whole universe.3 The function of geographical descriptions was different from that of modem geography, and can be revealed only through examination of the contemporary context. Politics and geography were linked from the earli­ est evidence, in which symbolic meanings were attached to remote spac-

1 For Arab sources on European geography, see Kimble 1938: 44-68; Chekin 1993: 491; Picard 1997. 2 For the importance of the whole set of material for the interpretation of one text in the corpus, see Nicolet 1991: 8. 3 Nicolet 1991: 4,172; Römer 1998: 4-5. Classical authors, e.g. Mela and Ptolemy, discussed these distinctions.

The North in Ancient and Eady Medieval Geography 43

cs.4 Ideas about marginal territories or boundaries between civilization and barbarians shaped the spatial understanding of society. The cultures of Antiquity placed themselves in the centre of the civilized world and de­ scribed marginal areas with an ambiguous mix of fact, illusion, myth, and error. The mixture was based on oral or written traditional knowledge, contemporary second-hand knowledge or knowledge gained through travel. A certain dynamism can be expected in the descriptions of marginal areas when politics and interaction changed and populations migrated. After all, margins are intellectual or social creations which become a part of a collective conception of the world but which can be changed. Redefinitions of margins may result in paradoxical, contradictory, or in­ comprehensible accounts in which territories may overlap, identities may be hybrid, and geography may be confused. The geography of the limits of the world was “a point charged with moral significance and divine dangerousness” in Antiquity as well as in Christian times.5 Ancient authors used the method of sjnkrisis or comparatio to describe otherness, i.e. foreign was compared with familiar. This was the most important principle in the representation of other places. From our earliest evidence onwards, a fundamental distinction is made between Gr. barbaros, 'barbarians', and civilized peoples. The barbarian was a literary construct and the image of barbarians remained much the same after the end of the Roman Empire, as did the categories of barbarian and Roman. The barbarians had no voice of their own in texts, although they were interacting culturally or economically with the literate cultures. This inter­ action influenced the identities of the barbarian groups to the extent that in Late Antiquity a barbarian king might adopt Roman ideas and consider himself a Roman.6 The two categories differentiated people into 'us' and 'them': 'we' were identified by 'our' history, allegiance, and laws, 'they' were known by 'their' customs, descent, and geography.7 Yet, as Askeberg notes, the peoples of the North were not often called barbarians, but instead were referred to by their group-names.8 Foreign practices or circumstances could highlight a contrasting situ­ ation at home. For instance, inhospitable regions with hot deserts or high 4 Cf. Nicolet 1991: 5. 5 Campbell 1998: 53. 6 Miles 1999b: 3-7; Heather 1999: 236, 241-255. 7 Geary 2002b: 42. 8 Askeberg 1944: 8.

44 The North in the Old English Orosius

mountains populated by monstrous or deformed peoples would empha­ size the security of the author’s own civilized culture. On the other hand, customs which were favourably perceived could serve as educational ex­ amples. Such messages carry values; ‘the other’ is included in the known world but excluded from the accepted and familiar norms of ‘our’ world, or foreign territories considered undesirable except for as potential objects of conquest and exploitation. In the geography of inclusion and exclusion, boundaries vary. And yet, when a place is described, it is brought into our domain, it comes closer and becomes our territory, familiar ground known to the author and his audience, creating a sense of place. The northern edge of the world was a location which had political and symbolic mean­ ings in spatial imagination. In the narrative of these marginal regions, spa­ tial and temporal conceptions coincided: from Greek and Roman perspec­ tives, the barbarians lived the same way as their ancestors, i.e. primitively. This perception was not necessarily fully negative, since the earliest ances­ tors were thought to have lived in a utopian golden age.9 Typical tópoi of ancient authors concerning foreign lands and peoples were related to the origin of the people (their name, independence, and indigenousness), their size, race, dress, lifestyle, customs, and gods, as well as mirabilia,. This method created stereotypical and repetitive descriptions of a reverse world, where all these aspects had the opposite values to those of the familiar world, and the transmission of details and passages reinforced this outcome. An interesting element in the description of foreign lands was how their shape, extent, and appearance had been explained with the help of familiar abstract mathematical figures or objects since Herodotus.10 For instance, Herodotus’s Scythia was square, and Julius Caesar’s Britain was triangle.11 Greek worldview Most of the early material is in the works of historians or geographers, who give extensive accounts of real or mythical places and peoples. In 9 Lund 1993: 34-36. 10 Lund 1993: 28-30,47-48. 11 Hdt. 4,101,1; Caes. B. Gall. 5.13,1. References to original or translated texts are by book and chapter number, and in some cases also by section. Some texts (e.g. OE Or.) are referred to by page and line number. Only the author’s name is provided unless several works by the same author are used. When a reprinting of a work is mentioned, the reference is to the reprint date. In spelling Greek names, I use the latinized forms.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 45

addition, there are a number of minor references to northern regions in poetry.12 However, it is interesting first to examine the earliest known world map, the Babylonian World Map, entitled ‘Map of the four regions of the world5. It is carved in a clay tablet and dated to the seventh or sixth century B.C., although it may have been copied from a ninth-century exemplar. Writings on the tablet refer to the remotest regions in relation to the world of the Babylonians at a time when their empire had reached its maximum extent. There are eight outer regions beyond the ocean or river which surround the earth disk. The caption in the northern Region2 says ‘in between/ where the sun is not seen5.13 This could be the first cartographic record of some form of contact with areas near the Arctic Circle, although not necessarily in northern Europe. In early empires, such as Mesopotamia, Persia and Egypt, knowledge of the edges of the world was of interest to scientists and historians serving the needs of political authorities who used geographical know­ ledge in order to plan government, to secure peace, or to move armies. In addition to these pragmatic functions, geographical and ethnographic knowledge also helped to adjust views of the Earth as a whole. Know­ ledge of distances, climatic and natural differences, or methods of subsist­ ence helped to organize conceptions of the universe and its workings. Greek and Roman Antiquity was a fast-expanding world of wide con­ tacts and knowledge. Contacts between the Mediterranean basin and southern Scandinavia existed long before the earliest textual indications of them. Kristiansen and Larsson have analyzed the emergence of an inter­ national network of metal trading in the Bronze Age. Mycenaean imports and/or imitations had an impact on societies in northern Europe in the early to mid-second millennium B.C. Perceptions of mobility and sea and land travel were completely different from those of medieval times. Com­ munities in Europe became dependent on each other to maintain long­ distance exchange in order to secure the distribution of metal. The evi­ dence comes from sources such as southern Scandinavian rock art and metalwork. These contacts also existed later, during the Phoenician period.14

12 In addition to the major classical informants, Chevallier (1984: 341) has counted fifty other Greek or Roman authors who give scattered information about northern groups or regions, including the British Isles and Germania. 13 Dilke 1985: 13; Millard 1987:111-112; Delano-Smith 2000: 209-211. 14 Kristiansen and Larsson 2005; cf. Olsson 1999:146-149; Jensen 2003: 157-225.

46

The North in the Old English Orosius

In the early Greek models of the world (Archaic period 776-479 B.C.), the dominant tradition was of a spherical Earth, oikoumené^ encircled by an ocean or a river, ökeanos^ which the gods did not allow mortals to cross. Boundaries surrounded the landmasses comprising Europe, Asia, and Libya/Africa.15 The Earth extended from the Pillars of Heracles (i.e. the twin rocks at the Straits of Gibraltar) in the west to the Taurus Mountains in the east, which run eastwards from what is now eastern Turkey. The north and south and the oceans were in symmetrical positions. The Greek islands and the Mediterranean were in the centre of the known world in a well-designed cosmos governed by universal and symmetrical order. The geometrical centre of the Earth’s surface was at Delphi, a cosmological and ritual home of the Oracle. The inhabited world was divided between the Greeks and the bárbaros. The far north was thought to be uninhabited and inaccessible; there were no people beyond the north and south winds (Boreas and Notos).16 Climate was a fundamental element in the categorization of the world for the Greeks and subsequently the Romans. Those who thought the world was divided into a number of horizontal zones (5, 6 or 7) according to climate, klimatay believed the outer zones to be inhabitable. The idea that climate was one of the factors that influenced people’s character came from the Aristotelian scheme of the four elements (fire, air, earth, water) and their qualities. Those living in the cold zones were connected with qualities of cold, and were perceived as big, dull, infertile, hard-working, and living boring lives, although sometimes also free and brave.17 In addition to the oikoumené, there were thought to be three other land masses on the spherical earth—the perioikoi, the antoikoi, and the antipodes, all of which were inaccessible.18 The Antipodes, i.e. the idea of the exist­ ence of a fourth continent in the south, was diametrically opposite the oikoumené. Three different issues were related to the antipodean section: whether a continent existed there, whether it was inhabited, and the shape of the Earth.19 The idea of the existence of the Antipodes influenced later scholars and was an issue of scholarly debate throughout the Middle Ages. This concept of orbis quadratus, a globe divided into four quarters, was adopted by Roman authors and it also affected Christian authors, e.g. « Romm 1992: 10-11. 16Thomson 1948: 97-100,134; Dilke 1985: 24; Simek 1996: 67-69. 17 Thomson 1948:106-108,116-117; cf. Simek 1996: 68-69; Hertog 1988: 28-30. 18 Stevens 1979: 43. 19 Simek 1996: 38.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 47

Macrobius, Augustine, Isidore of Seville, and Bede. In the Early Middle Ages, the idea was adapted by philosophers and cosmographers into various metaphors about the limits of the world, but it was opposed by geographers.20 The possible existence of an antipodean continent and its inhabitants caused problems to the Christian church, which rejected the ideas, with figures such as St. Augustine denying the existence of the Antipodes.21 Nonetheless, the antipodal part of the world can be found in medieval texts and maps in the south or south-west. The projection of one quarter (i.e. the oikoumené) with the three known continents covering the whole sphere of the Earth was a more popular model, adopted by such Roman authors as Sallust (Caius Sallustinus Crispus, 86-34 B.C.) and Lucan (Marcus Annaeus Lucanus, A.D. 39-65) 22 Hyperboreans and Rhipaens This Greek model of the world was described by Hecateus (c. 550-490 B.C.), who lived at the important Greek centre of Miletus in Asia Minor. He was the author of both the earliest Greek prose history, Genealogies, an attempt to rationalize the epic Greek myths, and the earliest known Greek geographical work, Periodos or Periégésis Gés (The Circuit o f the Earth), which was an account of the geography and ethnography of the Mediterranean world, including a map. Only fragments of this latter survive in later texts, but much of it had to be based on travels and inquiries of which nothing is known.23 Hecateus described lands and peoples according to lifestyle, environment, wonders, and physical nature, and mentioned the Hyper­ boreans who inhabited the unattractive northernmost edge of the world beyond the Rhipaen Mountains 24 There are signs of the Hyperboreans and the Rhipaens as early as eighth and seventh century poetry.25 The Hyperboreans were an almost god-like people, whose name meant "people of the north’, or "people beyond the northern wind Boreas’, or possibly "people who live beyond the mountains’, i.e. beyond Thrace, the home of Boreas. The Rhipaens 20 Nicolet 1991: 63. 21 Simek 1996: 3, 38, 51-55. 22 Stevens 1979: 43. 23 Hecateus is described in Hdt. 2.143; 5.36,125; Bunbury 1879: 134-152; Bowder 1982: 116; Dilke 1985: 24, 56-57; Marincola 1997: 67. 24 Hecateus, pp. 351-355; cf. Thomson 1948: 98-100; Lund 1993: 65. 25 Bunbury 1879: 102 n. 8 (by the poet Hesiod), 148; Thomson 1948: 21-22; Bridgman 2005: 27-45.

48

The North in the Old English Orosius

were beyond the North Wind as well. Both are often said to be in or beyond Scythia, which was sometimes also the homeland of the Amazons. The more the world became known, the further north or east the Hyper­ boreans and the Rhipaens moved.26 In modem geographical terms, the Hyperboreans can be located first in eastern Europe or north of the Black Sea and the Caucasus and then gradually further west, beyond the Balkans, the Alps, and the Pyrenees. The ancient Hyperboreans and the Rhipaens are not usually, however, identified with any particular group or mountain range, because they functioned as mythical markers of the northern regions, balancing the Greek worldview. It has been suggested that they were perhaps used in a satirical way to explain the Greek character using a subtle inverse-ethno­ centric method, wherein they, furthest away from the centre of the world, adopted many characteristics considered ideal by the Greeks.27 Some Greek authors, however, regarded the Hyperboreans as belonging to the Celts or proto-Celts with whom the Greeks traded. The idealization and mythologizing of the Hyperboreans and their location were probably early efforts to rationalize contacts between the Mediterranean and lands north of it.28 The above perceptions of the northernmost regions of Europe or Eurasia were espoused by thinkers such as Anaximander of Miletus (611547 B.C.). He was responsible for one of the earliest known attempts to make a map of the world, according to later sources. The map, perhaps a metal board, was a prototype of the so-called ‘Ionian maps’, which were accompanied by texts. He also wrote the first known book on natural philosophy which included geographical knowledge and a theory of evo­ lution, but only very little survives of this text.29 Herodotus and other travellers The first great Greek historian, and an occasional traveller as far as Egypt, was Herodotus of Halicarnassus (c. 484-420 B.C., fl. 450-428), of whose 26 Lempriere 1984: 290, 545; Romm 1992: 60-67; Stenger 2001: 992-993. Leake 1967: 51, 54-57. Dilke (1985: 205 n. 6) suggests that Hdt. 4.33 gives an alternative theory for the name Rhipaen: they are ‘men who pass on’, which refers to their an­ nual passing on of an offering to Apollo on Delos. 27 Romm 1992: 47-49, 66-67. 28 Bridgman 2005: 101-158. 29 Thomson 1948: 47, 102-103; Kahn 1960: 82-84, 109-114; Müller 1972: 74-78; Nicolet 1991: 59.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 49

life little is known.30 His Histories, as it is generally called, focuses on the Greeks’ wars against the Persians, but it also abounds with ethnographic and mythical stories from around the world. Herodotus also refers to maps made by others.31 Later historians have found Herodotus’s reliability problematic, characterizing him variously as a serious historian, a story­ teller, or a liar. Nevertheless, he paid attention to geography, describing the extent of various lands and their natural conditions, such as climate, flora, and fauna and natural resources.32 For Herodotus, the Hyperboreans lived furthest north, by a sea and beyond the snowy lands of the Scythians, gold-guarding griffins and the one-eyed men.33 The Hyperboreans’ region had continuous snow, though fortunately less in the summer, and was so inhospitable that they had no knowledge to impart. Despite these conditions, the Hyperboreans con­ tinued to be part of the mythical northern world, and occur throughout the classical and medieval periods in prose, poems, and maps.34 Herodotus’s account of the journeys made by some Hyperboreans to Delos, in which they brought offerings with them, may be a cultural memory of visits or trade contacts between northern Eurasia and the Mediterranean.35 Herodotus was thus able to conceive of the idea of visits from the north to the south. 30 The exact dates of birth and death of many ancient authors are not known, and some are debated. For instance, dates of Herodotus’s life vary between 495 and 425 B.C. The dates given here for some authors, rulers, etc. signify their reign or the period in history for which they are known. 31 Hdt. 4.36; Grene (trans.) 1987. For early Greek map-makers, see Dilke 1985: 22-38. 32 Muller 1972: 114. 33 Hdt. 3.116 and 4.13 one-eyed men; 4.16 limits of the world; 4.25 people sleep six months; 4.27-28 eight months unbearably cold in Scythia; 4.30-31 cold and snow; 4.32-36 Hyperboreans. For Herodotus’s Hyperboreans, see Bunbury 1879: 172-206. 34 For a catalogue of Latin texts, see Aalto and Pekkanen 1975: 259-267; cf. Bridgman 2005: 65-155. The Rhipaens have been equated with the Scandinavian mountain range Kölen (Ohlmark 1983: 260). In the Early Middle Ages, Adam of Bremen (4.32, schol. 137, c. A.D. 1200) placed the Hyperboreans and the Rhipaens in northern Scandinavia, a home of strange peoples with magic skills. Adam also says that the Danes, the Swedes, and other northern peoples were called Hyperboreans by the Romans (4.12). For a medieval cartographic example of the Hyperboreans, see the Psalter world map, p. 232 in this study. 35 Cf. Römer 1998: 111 n. 16. For a possible route taken by those bringing

M)

The North in the Old HngHsh Orosius

Ilie Atlantic islands, the North Sea and the Baltic do not occur in /Ustories, but tin, amber, and gold from these areas do. Herodotus is very suspicious of what he has heard of the origins of amber from a river called liridanus running into a sea towards the north, and of the Tin Islands where “our tin comes from”. Later classical authors describe the Baltic coasts as one source of amber.36 As far as Herodotus knew, nobody had a clear knowledge of whether Europe was surrounded by a sea in the north since nobody had seen it.37 For Herodotus, eye-witness information was the most certain form of knowledge. In classical geography, the Skjthai, ‘Scythians’, lived in a region which was sometimes cold and snowy and which was somewhere north of the Danube and the Black Sea, or between the Danube and the Don, or in Central Asia by the World Ocean.38 The northern regions were roughly divided into the Scythians in the east and the Celts in the west, but how far north the Scythians lived remained uncertain. The Scythians lived in Europe, but were not necessarily Europeans.39 According to Herodotus, a Greek traveller called Aristeas had visited the edge of the known world and found out about the Scythians and the most northerly peoples. He wrote a poem about his journeys, Arimaspeia, which Herodotus conveys.40 Whether such a traveller ever existed, perhaps a couple of hundred years before Herodotus, remains uncertain, but the method of expanding knowledge using travellers’ tales recurs in geographical works in later centuries. The historical Scythians had reached the middle regions of the River Dniepr and Transylvania and come into contact with the Greeks in the seventh century B.C. They were an important source of gold in Antiquity. The name referred to various non-Greek groups around the Black Sea, and they were considered both barbaric terrors and idealized offerings, see Bridgman 2005: 54-59. 36 Piin. NH 4.13(94); 4.16(103); 37.11-14(30-51); Tac. Gem, 45,4-5. For identifications of Eridanus with the Rivers Rhine, Elbe, and Vistula, see Thomson 1948: 56. Hecateus mentions a river called Eridanus, as does, e.g. Hesiod in his poem Theogony 338. 37 Hdt. 3.115-116; 4.18 (beyond man-eaters in a desert); 4.45. 38 Hdt 4.16-31; 4.99-101. 39 Hertog 1988: 3-32; Rolle 2001. 40 Hdt. 4.13-16; cf. Romm 1992: 71. Thomson (1948: 61) identifies some of the tribes, e.g. the Melanchkeni, ‘Black Coats’, with “Finnish tribes”, who had already been mentioned by Hecateus, and north of whom was only uninhabited wilder­ ness (cf. Bunbury 1879: 193 n. 6).

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 51

peace-lovers. They were nomads, and thus lived everywhere and nowhere simultaneously.41 In the Roman period, Scythia extended from eastern Europe to north­ ern Asia, India, and China. Over rime, Scythia came to encompass various barbarian tribes, such as the Getae and the Gothic or Germanic tribes, and it was only a matter of time before the North was included in the concept, which had occurred by the eighth century A.D.42 Leake notes that “in general terms, the Germanic North in medieval geography is classical Scythia transferred to the new frontiers of knowledge”. There is evidence that Scythia was superimposed on the North right until the seventeenth century.43 This conception of Scythia is also apparent in later Anglo-Saxon sources, where the Piets are said to originate in Scythia, Thule is placed next to Scythia, or some of the Anglo-Saxon homelands are in Scythia. One form of traveller’s tale is the periplus, an account of a circum­ navigation or a coastal voyage. Periploi were recorded by Greek, Roman, late antique, and Byzantine authors. They differ from the geography given in the history books since in general they concentrate on observations of places or peoples.44 The accounts sometimes give measurements of time (such as the time taken for a day’s sailing), and describe the shape of the coastline, ports, rivers, the sea, land animals, and peoples.45 There is a linear perception of space in the periplus structure which concentrates on the experience of passing from one place to another on a sea voyage. The first known periplus is in a text from the fourth century B.C., but we can take Homer’s Odyssey (ninth to eighth centuries B.C.) as its earliest form. Homer tells of a voyage to a place where people live in mist and darkness, and which may represent regions bordering northern seas.46

41 Braud 2002: 210-212; Murphy 2004: 94. 42Leake 1967: 15, 31-36, 54-68, 94-95; Gahrn 2002: 15-19. Simek (1996: 67) states that Viking-Age Scandinavians called Scythia ‘Greater Sweden’. For Scythia in sources from 0-A.D. 1200, see Aalto and Pekkanen 1980: 119-184. In many other sources Scythia is used vaguely and mainly as a synonym for barbarian or pagan (p. v). « Leake 1967: 54, 94-95. 44 Nicole11991: 58-59. 45 Dilke 1985:130-143. 44 Horn. Od X.82; XI.13; Murray trans. 1953: 351; Dilke 1985: 131, 211 n. 5. The first mention of amber beads in literature is found in Homer (Od. XV.460). For the suggestion that Homer’s ideas reflect geographical information passed on by sailors in various ports, see Chevallier 1984: 342, 344 n. 12.

52 The North in the Old English Orosius

Other well-known examples of periploi are Hanno’s voyage south along the north-western coast of Africa c. 500 B.C., a periplus of the Persian Gulf from the fourth century, and the Periplus Maris Erythraei (Periplus o f the Erythraean Sea, i.e. the Indian Ocean), describing voyages from the Red Sea to India and Zanzibar dated to the first century A.D. The western Medi­ terranean is described in an incomplete verse text, Ora Maritima by Avienus Rufus Festus, which is from the fourth century A.D. but uses early sixth century B.C. material of Himlico’s sea voyage, and an early fifth century Greek work, Periplus o f the Outer Sea, depicts the ocean towards Britain and Ireland.47 The literary evidence of travels shows that the Greeks were familiar with the coast of the Adantic from the English Channel probably as far as the Gulf of Guinea.48 In addition to sea travel, there are records of road maps and land itineraries, although these are not written by the Greeks. The Romans were the road builders, and the need for instructions for land travel was probably peculiar to them.49 The importance of travel and journeys has been appreciated for a long time. Connections between the Mediterranean and the North Adantic and the North were part of the exploratory initiatives of the classical world. Roller reminds us how the world of classical Antiquity reached from Iceland to Vietnam. He rightly criticizes the study of travel descriptions for its over-specialized and literary viewpoint and failure to research all the surviving material. This has made it difficult to recognize the diversity of the ancient world and its polymaths.50 Similar criticism can be applied to the examination of travel accounts of later periods as well. The expanding world More information about the world was recorded from the Hellenistic period (323-31 B.C.) onwards. The Mediterranean civilizations were rapid­ ly changing, and contacts were expanding both in the west and in the east, north and south beyond the Iberian Peninsula and along the coasts of the Black Sea. A Greek navigator, Pytheas, resident of Massilia (Marseilles), made a lasting addition to the geography of northern Europe. We know practically nothing of the man himself, but he is said to have travelled to the British Isles for tin, explored the islands, and then sailed six days north to the island of Thule. His book Peri tou Okeanou (On the Ocean), describing 47 Hdt. 4.43; Bunbury 1879: 318-335; Roller 2006: 8-21. 48 Roller 2006: 21. 49 Dilke 1985:112-129. 50 Roller 2006: xii.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 53

Ihis first known voyage in the North Adantic, c. 320 B.C., has not survived, but accounts of the voyage are found in a number of later fragmentary commentaries, most extensively in Strabo’s Geography and Pliny the Elder’s Natura/ History (JVH).51 The editing and perceptions of later authors has complicated interpretations of Pytheas’s travels and the (‘valuation of the reliability of the information attributed to him. In addition to ancient authors, some modem commentators have also questioned the authenticity of Pytheas’s voyage.52 But if Pytheas did not undertake his voyage(s?) himself, which would have taken at least a couple of years, somebody else must have made the geographical and skilful astronomical observations and reported them to him.53 Long days and the midnight sun were phenomena already known to Greek scholars, but the measurements of the height of the sun and observations of the stars made by Pytheas were significant in the history of astronomy. They were later converted into latitudes by Hipparchus of Nicea (190-120 B.C.), the most accomplished mathematical astronomer of Antiquity.54 Astronomy was an important body of knowledge and had a connection with geographical exploration and long-distance knowledge. The Earth’s movements and its shape influence worldviews, geographical understanding, and assumptions about natural conditions in various parts of the world. Astronomy helps to locate positions and directions, to define the length of day and direction of winds, and above all, to navigate on sea or on land. When humans began to make sense of their obser­ vations of the heavens and use this knowledge to shape their worldviews can only be guessed a t By the time of the production of the texts surveyed here, knowledge of celestial movements, space and time was a well-developed science in Greece, and presumably around the world. In 51 The text fragments have been collected by Mette 1952. For suggestions for the date of the voyage (380-240 B.C), see Roller 2006: 65. 52 Bunbury (1879: 591-599) thinks it is most improbable that Pytheas himself reached the remote regions, but rather that he described some phenomena from hearsay. 53 Cf. Journés and Georgelin 2000:126; Cunliffe 2001a: 133. 54 Strabo 2.1.12; 2.1.18; 2.5.43. Hipparchus established the system of parallels of latitude which is still in use today. The Arctic Circle (or the Circle of the Bear, arktos, named after the constellation of the Great Bear which is always visible) is at 66 °N in this system (in reality it is at 66°32'). Hipparchus used other inform­ ants in addition to Pytheas. See Thomson 1948: 162-166, 206-208; Journés and Georgelin 2000: 97-98,107-111; Cunliffe 2001a: 122-123.

54 The North in the Old English Orosius

Antiquity, geometric astronomy was part of the quadrivium, but by Late Antiquity it had lost contact, in Roman Western Europe, with ancient mathematical techniques.55 Eratosthenes of Cyrene (275-c. 196 B.C.), like Hipparchus, did not question Pytheas’s astronomical information.56 He was one of the greatest scholars of Antiquity, and the chief librarian of the Great Library of Alexandria. He relied heavily on astronomical observations made by Pytheas in his many works, and also discussed Thule. Eratosthenes’s measurements of the earth are famously accurate. We know that he di­ vided the world into five temperate zones and made a famous map; the latter has not survived, and there is no description of it in later sources. Nothing survives of Eratosthenes’s Geographica (Geography) except in extensive references by Strabo.57 The need to record information about the scope, limits, and inhabited regions of the world became more pressing when Rome began to dominate larger areas. For instance, a Syrian-born polymath and leading Stoic, Posidonius of Apameia and Rhodes (c. 135-51 B.C.), wrote a number of works and strongly influenced many later geographical writ­ ings, e.g. those by Strabo, Caesar, Sallust, and Tacitus. His Peri okeanoü {On Ocean) was inspired by Pytheas’s account of his voyage.58 It was probably in the form of a real or imaginary journey around the outer edge of the continents, and had as its main focus the outer ocean and the most remote parts of the known world, as imagined by Stoic universalism and the doc­ trine of the world moving as one living entity.59 Posidonius’s work is now lost but we know about it from fragments in other texts which discuss concepts such as the idea of five terrestrial or climactic zones and the characteristics of their inhabitants, which help us to understand medieval zonal maps. He probably recorded the name Germanoi for the first time when he referred to their eating habits. This reference may have meant something different from what Germani were understood to be later by the Romans, e.g. a Celtic group.60 Even though 55 McCluskey 2000. 56 Strabo 2.5.43; Berger 1964:143-151, 219-222; Zimmertnann 2002: 32-33. 57 Berger 1964. Strabo (2.4.2) points out Eratosthenes’s ignorance of the northern parts of Europe. 58 Eds. Edelstein and Kidd 1989, 1999; Harley and Woodward with Aujac 1987: 168-169; Clarke 1999: 129-192. See also, e.g. Strabo 2.2.1-3. 59 Clarke 1999:153,173,189-191. 60 Posidonius, frag. 73. For interpretations of Germanoi (a group of Germanic

The North in Ancient and Eady Medieval Geography 55

Posidonius was an active traveller, it is believed that he did not travel to central or northern Europe to find out about the Germ anoi. In later usage, Germani is a collective name for groups who speak Germanic lan­ guages and who dominated north-central Europe between the Rhine and the Vistula and between the Carpathians and the Baltic Sea in the last cen­ turies B .C 6162 Although ancient authors such as Posidonius valued eye-witness testimony as the best form of knowledge, there was also mistrust of sensory perception in scholarly minds. Geographical and ethnographic knowledge was discussed, criticized, and corrected; this was the best way to improve on predecessors’ literary achievements. The desire for authori­ tative position led at times to severe criticism of earlier geographical accounts.63 2.2.

Roman sources

Pytheas’s voyage in Strabo’s Geography In the second century B.C., Greece came under the supervision of Rome. Ibis somewhat uneasy unification is exemplified by Strabo’s life (c. 62 B.C.-A.D. 24) and writings. Strabo was a historian and geographer of Greek origin from Amaseia in Asia Minor, but he lived for long periods in Rome, where he had many well-known teachers of geography. He did not appreciate myths and marvels, and respected the practical Romans. Strabo’s main work, Geography, was written for the ruling elites.64 Despite the fact that Geography has critical and political overtones, it is an extremely important text, because it surveys all the earlier literary geographical traditions. Strabo’s work was ignored by Pliny the Elder and Ptolemy and was practically unknown in Europe until it was translated into Latin in 1469.65 Strabo, like other ancient authors, wrote in a genre that incorporated history and geography as well as ethnography. His Geography was historical people or Germanic groups in general), see Kidd 1988: 322-326; Lund 1993: 84; Rives 1999: 21-27 (a group in north-eastern Gaul); cf. Clarke 1999: 369. 61 Müller 1972: 313; Lund 1993: 84, and references therein. 62 Heather 2005: 467. 63 Marincola 1997: 63-86, 281. 64 Ed. Jones 1949-1983. 65 Bunbury 1959: 213; Harley and Woodward with Aujac 1987: 173; Nicolet 1991: 8; Clarke 1999:194, 334-336; Radt 2001.

56 The North in the Old English Orosius

geography, in the sense that he described places changing over time in order for them to be understood in the present.66 Strabo lived in the Augustan period, and it is not a coincidence that his world geography was written at a time when the emperor’s ambition was to conquer the whole of the inhabited world.67 Strabo’s narrative is constructed in such a way that it leads logically to universal domination of the world by Rome. His Geography was probably the first attempt to provide a complete account of the Roman world.68 It is not surprising that at this time geography became an ingredient in the encyclopaedic tradition, which meant that much of the information was either excerpted or epitomized by many later au­ thors.69 Strabo’s view of a united world comprised a periphery and a centre (Rome).70 This implies that Rome chose to exclude regions that were too remote and difficult to administer. Strabo’s Stoic materialism may have had an impact on his views on marginal regions and their political and economic value to Rome. His worldview was logical and based on reason and a belief in harmony in the cosmos. Ignorance was a vice, since the Stoics desired understanding of the whole world, and according to this philosophy, Pytheas’s travel accounts contained potentially dangerous information. Strabo’s critical approach was not widely adopted, perhaps because Stoicism was not popular or developed in Antiquity. Strabo passionately disputes Pytheas’s information and calls him a liar frequendy.71 For Strabo, Thule was outside the inhabited world, and thus did not exist; for him, the northern edge of the world was Ireland, although he writes that there were unknown and uninhabitable places further away.72 When criticizing Pytheas, Strabo refers repeatedly to “other places” in that part of the world. When discussing the measure­ ments of the Earth, he refers to “the most remote peoples of whom we have knowledge north of Britain”, but says also that he does not know of 66 Clarke 1999: 195, 329-332. Clarke (p. 228) points out how, during Strabo’s time, it became clear that the Romans could suffer failures in their conquests, and that historians had to learn to deal with them. 67 For Augustan geography, see Nicolet 1991:15-24,47, 57. 68 Clarke 1999: 312. 69 Purcell 2004: 303. 70 Clarke 1999: 210-228. 71 For instance, Strabo 2.4.1-3; 2.3.5; 2.5.8; 2.5.43; 4.2.1; 4.5.5. He is also critical of the use of Pytheas by others, e.g. Eratosthenes. 72 Strabo 1.4.3-4. In these passages, Strabo is critical of Pytheas.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 57

any reliable knowledge of these remote peoples.73 He says that those parts of the country beyond the river Albis (the Elbe) and near the ocean are “wholly unknown to us”.74 While refuting Pytheas, however, Strabo gives at least some authority and much attention to his voyage to Thule. He applies equally critical rhetoric to tales from India or of the circumnavi­ gation of Africa.75 It is obvious that marginal regions constandy occupied imperial minds. In comparison, Strabo’s references to the northernmost regions are somewhat inconsistent. On the one hand, he agrees that there are people living beyond the traditionally accepted inhabited regions, but, on the other hand, Pytheas’s information is unacceptable to him because the existence of Thule disturbed the order of the world. Furthermore, for governmental purposes there would be no advantage in knowing of dis­ tant countries, particularly if the inhabitants lived on isolated islands which could neither injure nor benefit Strabo and his audience.76 Regions which posed no threat and brought no revenue were not worth knowing. Places near cold or uninhabitable territories were without value to the geograph­ er.77 Strabo knew nobody, not even the Romans, who would have sailed along the northern ocean or known who lived beyond Germania or whether it was totally uninhabitable.78 To his mind, anybody claiming to know about the northernmost edge of the world should be disregarded.79 Strabo is adamant that a geographer must restrict his subject matter to the known wodd, the oikoumené^ although the science of geography is a philo­ sophical discipline and requires extensive learning and interest in the Earth and the heavens.80 Strabo defended Rome and the emperor’s status by discrediting Pytheas.81 Rome had failed to conquer Germania and regions further 73 Strabo 2.5.7; 4.5.5. The Irish were anthropophagi, 'man-eaters’, although Strabo questions his sources on this matter (4.5.4). 74 Strabo 7.1.4; 7.2.4; 7.2.1-4 (the Cimbri)\ cf. Bunbury 1959: 260. 75 Cf. Romm 1992: 95; Claike 1999: 148-149. 76 Strabo 2.4.2; 2.5.8. 77 Strabo 2.5.43. 78 Strabo 7.2.4. 79 Strabo 7.3.1. 80 Strabo 1.1.1-2; 2.5.13, 34. Strabo sees Homer as the founder of geography. For the possibility that these thoughts may derive from Posidonius, see Clarke 1999: 147. 81 Strabo 2.4.2; Roman and Roman 1999: 42-49.

58 The North in the Old English Orosius

north, and its rule in Britain began only after some difficulties, in A.D. 43. How could Pytheas, a Greek, succeed in something Roman emperors could not? Pytheas’s explorations were thus criticized in Roman times and the northernmost regions continued to be described as not worth know­ ing about Paradoxically, this meant that they were not ignored and re­ mained in consciousness. Strabo’s polemics did not make Thule disappear from geography, although similar doubts circulated about the credibility of Pytheas’s jour­ ney, and Thule was controversial. It acquired a mythical status and became a marker of the edge of the inhabited or known world in the north or north-west, ultima Thule, as the poet Virgil (70-19 B.C.) described it in the Georges (Poems about Farming).82 Thule regained credibility again in Ptolemy’s time in the second century A.D., when Ptolemy accepted its location. Pytheas’s journey faded out after Pliny the Elder, but Thule appears in the outer western or northern ocean in geographical texts and maps until the modem period.83 Pytheas’s Thule, as described in Strabo and other secondary sources, has been identified with various North Adantic islands (Greenland, Iceland, the Faroes, the Orkneys, the Shedands), various parts of Norway, the Judand Peninsula, and places around or islands in the Baltic Sea.84 A definite identification is impossible, but Iceland is the clear favourite. For instance, Cunliffe identifies Thule with Iceland in his recent investigation of Pytheas’s voyage. One of his arguments is based on Strabo’s comments on the nutrition of those dwelling close to the frozen zone: fruit, millet and other grain, herbs, roots, and honey as well as products from domes­ ticated animals. The reference to cultivation is interpreted variously by scholars: some believe it is connected with Thule, others with other parts in the frozen zone. Cunliffe thinks the references to subsistence have nothing to do with Thule.85 On the other hand, those who connect culti­ 82 Virgil 1,30; ed. Hirtzel 1959. 83 The only post-Pliny reference to Pytheas is by a Byzantine scholar of the 5th or 6th century (Cunliffe 2001a: 169). For Thule, see Dreyer-Eimbcke 1987: 4-5. Aalto and Pekkanen (1980: 221-228) list references to Thule in over thirty different Latin texts and one map between the 1st and the 9th century A.D. 84 Dreyer-Eimbcke (1987: 3) has found c. 80 different theories about the identi­ fication of Thule. An early identification with Iceland is made by Adam of Bremen 4.36. Nansen (1911: 33-56) discusses identifications and prefers central Norway. Cf. Rübekeil 2002: 599. 85 Cunliffe (2001a) provides an interesting commentary on the background and

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 59

vation with Thule argue against Iceland, since it was not inhabited at the time. After visiting Britain and Thule in the North Adantic, Pytheas may have stopped in (central?) Norway on the way to the Baltic Sea, and may possibly have travelled as far as the Gulf of Finland.86 This part of the voyage has survived in place-names and topographical references in Pliny’s NH, although it cannot be proven that Pytheas in fact sailed beyond the Danish islands or the River Oder.87 Strabo writes that Pytheas continued his voyage from Thule to the river Tanais, i.e. the Don in ancient geography. Tanais could have been used here in the traditional sense, as a river that was thought to connect the Black Sea with the northern ocean and function as a boundary between Europe and Asia. However, since this was an erroneous concept, i.e. the Don did not flow into the Baltic or the Arctic Ocean, Pytheas’s Tanais could have meant the Vistula, which was possibly the same river that Herodotus called Eridanus, although these identifications are very uncertain.88 Recent research on maritime archaeological finds, ships, navigation, and trade routes accepts that it was possible to make a voyage to the North Atlantic in the fourth century B.C.89 Both material and intellectual reasons for such a voyage seem also to have existed: the acquisition of tin, other metals, amber, and curiosity as well as astronomical research. There circumstances of Pytheas’s voyage, which also discusses Iron Age archaeology. For Cunliffe, Thule is undoubtedly Iceland (p. 130). His interpretation is mainly based on the astronomical information credited to Pytheas, the estimation of the northernmost latitudes Pytheas could have reached, and the length of daylight there. 86 Pytheas provided the name for Britain for the first time in the form Brettaniké/ Pretíaniké. He also wrote about an icy sea (Strabo 2.4.1). “Sea-lungs” was an expression known to the Greeks in a different maritime context, but here it meant drifting sea-ice in motion (Cunliffe 2001a: 128-130; Journés and Georgelin 2000: 113-115). Roller (2006: 85-86) argues for Iceland, and suggests that Pytheas was trying to construct a scientific theory to account for the northern ocean’s characteristics, which the references to the sea and icy condi­ tions imply. For Roman references to icy seas, see Rübekeil 2002: 595-596; Murphy 2004:179-181. 87 Roller 2006: 87, 90. 88 Strabo 2.4.1 (“visited the whole coastline of Europe from Gades to the Tanmf3); 2.5.30; 5.1.9 (about amber); 7.4.5; Journés and Georgelin 2000: 119-125; cf. Dilke 1985:136-137. 89Journés and Georgelin 2000: Cunliffe 2001a.

60 The North in the Old 'English Orosius

could have been political motives originating from competition between power centres in the Mediterranean and paving a way for further exploration.90 The extent of knowledge about northern resources and regions would have been enough to motivate an exploratory voyage. Pytheas may have had financial or political support for his voyage, since the knowledge he gathered would not have been of any use to him alone in anything other than an intellectual sense. Roller notes that there is no single reason to explain the wide range of Pytheas’s travels and the diversity of his interests.91 More interesting than the identification of Thule or the exact geo­ graphical source of amber is the likelihood that a voyage or voyages to the North Sea/Baltic Sea region were made at all. Pytheas’s geographical knowledge may have extended almost to the same latitude where Ohthere’s home was situated almost twelve centuries later. There is no other extant record of an exploratory journey to the Arctic Circle from central or southern Europe during this period.92 Coastal areas of the North Adantic, the North Sea, and the Baltic were inhabited as soon as the ice-sheet melted at the end of the last glacial period. For instance, the Shedand Islands were setded in the third millennium B.C. Strabo had a great variety of sources available to him. Clarke has listed and regionally categorized those sources which Strabo himself mentions.93 He used thirteen named sources for northern Europe and Scythia. These refer to two groups that are usually linked with the North. The first group is the Cimbri, who lived on a peninsula from where they were driven out because of a flood. Strabo doubts these stories but places the Cimbri between the Rhine and the Elbe.94 The Cimbri were already vaguely known by Greek authors. They are connected with the Judand Peninsula from where they are said to have migrated south by authors such as Julius Caesar and Pliny the Elder.95 The other group-name is Boutones which could be a misspelling of *Gutones and possibly the first reference to the 90 Cf. Roman and Roman 1999:15-20, 27-28, 40-41; Journés and Georgelin 2000: 7-11. 91 Roller 2006: 63 n. 52. 92 Voyages to the Arctic Circle must have been made long before Pytheas; cf. Romm 1992: 20-22; Cunliffe 2001b: 84-91. 93 Clarke 1999: 374-378. 94 Strabo 7.2.1-4. 95 Caes. B. Gall 2.29; Piin. 2.67(167); 4.13(96-97); cf. Noreen 1920: 22-23; Bunbury 1959: 260.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 61

Goths. Strabo locates them imprecisely somewhere in eastern or north­ eastern central Europe.96 The geographical background of the Goths becomes relevant later in this study. Imperial initiatives Geography began to influence history in the Augustan period (27 B.C.A.D. 14).97 Roman authors had considerable geographical knowledge of their empire as well as of territories outside it based on Greek authors, the Romans’ own observations, and from oral second-hand information. During the last three centuries before Christ, general knowledge of the oikoumené mainly expanded as a result of Roman conquests. Gaius Julius Caesar’s (100-44 B.C.) aim was no less than to survey and measure the whole inhabited world. He had four geographers for this purpose but the work was not finished in his lifetime. Emperor Augustus’s friend and son-in-law, admiral and military man Marcus Vispanius Agrippa (died 12 B.C.) continued the survey and produced a world map with a commentary. The map has not survived, but it probably served as a source for many later geographical descriptions and world maps into the medieval period.98 According to Pliny the Elder, Agrippa did not finish the survey, but it may have been completed by Augustus.9910 Julius Caesar recorded his commentary on his campaigns in Gaul in Commentarii de Bello Gallico (Commentaries on the Gallic War,; or Bellum Gallicum, The Gallic War) around 60-50 B.C. The work includes a geographical account, in which Caesar gives the first detailed description of the Germani east of the Rhine, but does not use the appellation G erm ania^ He names one or two Germani groups which may have come from Jutland, but names no regions.101 The emperors Augustus, Caligula 96 Strabo 7.1.3-4; cf. Andersson 1996: 35; Nordgren 2000: 233; Christensen 2002: 33 (located in Bohemia). 97 Nicole11991: 9. 98 Dilke 1985: 41-53; Nicolet 1991: 96-114, 172. Brodersen (1995: 268-272, 285) reviews interpretations of the map and argues that Agrippa’s work was a narrative list of landmarks rather than a graphic representation. 99 Piin. 3.2(17); 4.13(98); for Augustus, see Nicolet 1991: 113-114, 172. 100 For instance, Caes. Commentaries 1.1; IV.4,2; V.13,6; VI.11,1; VI..24,2; VI.25,4; VI.31,5; trans. McDevitte and Bohn 1869. Rives (1999: 3) points out that many, or even most, of the groups which were called Germani by the Romans spoke Germanic languages. 101 Caes. Commentaries 1.31, 51: Harudes and perhaps Sedusii, read Eudosii. See

62

The North in the Old 'English Orosius

(A.D. 12-41), Tiberius (42 B.C.-A.D. 37), and Claudius (10 B.C.-A.D. 54) made similar efforts to conquer or investigate territories north of Rome’s frontiers. Pliny the Elder mentions an expedition by a Roman horse-rider, who organized Nero’s (A.D. 54-68) gladiatorial games, from Italy to the southern Baltic to find amber for the settings of the venue of the games in Rome. He visited both markets and coasts, which may have been located in the Lower Vistula or in Samland (the Sambian Peninsula).102 Pliny also refers to various expeditions along the Jutland Peninsula, including the expedition by Tiberius c. A.D. 4-6 from the Rhine to the promontory of the Cimbri, and a disastrous voyage by the fleet of Germanicus in a North Sea tempest c. A.D. 14-16. He alludes to a fleet which sailed to the promontory of the Cimbri prior to A.D. 14, which is reminiscent of Augustus’s description of a fleet exploring Jutland, and could be a refer­ ence to Tiberius’s expedition.103 Pliny found it extremely improbable that there was a vast sea which reached to Scythia. Remarkable references to military or diplomatic expeditions north to the River Elbe and up the Jutland coast (12 B.C.-A.D. 16) have survived in Roman sources. One of these may have been an attempt to circum­ navigate the North Sea. The references to the expeditions are, however, ambiguous with respect to their destinations, and they appear to confuse the various expeditions with each other and possibly even with Pytheas’s information, but they still hint at other more exploratory voyages to the North Sea. The Romans’ attempts to research the Baltic were unsuccess­ ful, and it appears from the texts that they perceived the situation as a contest between themselves and the ocean, which was ultimately the winner. The authors did not record explicit knowledge of regions such as Lim Fjord in north Judand or the Danish islands, although an expedition or expeditions probably rounded Judand.104 The general conclusion is that contacts between the Roman Empire and southern Scandinavia were multifarious—peaceful, violent, cultural, Thomson 1948: 196 (refers to Tacitus, Germ. 40: Eudoses). 102 Pliny 37.45. For amber routes in Roman times, see Green 1998: 226-229; Urbanczyk 2001: 514 fig. 1. 103 Pliny 2.167; 27.2; 37.42; cf. Roman and Roman 1999: 22-23. 104 Useful discussions and summaries are provided by Nicolet 1991: 22, 87, 91-94, and Roller 2006: 117-123; cf. Chevallier 1984: 342-343; Alonso-Núnez 1998: 4748. Strabo (7.1.4) complains that some Germani tribes beyond the Elbe would have been better known if Augustus had allowed his generals to cross the river.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 63

political, and commercial. Roman political strategy on the border with Germania was to engage in diplomacy and exchange with the Germani and control trade for political benefit on both sides. Rich archaeological material from Scandinavia and the Baltic lands and a smaller amount of evidence from Finland demonstrate the Roman impact.105 Goods were probably exchanged over long distances in a distributive system which involved alliances and the participation of local rulers and chieftains. Danish burial finds support the idea of diplomatic meetings between the Romans and local inhabitants in the early first century A.D.106 Judand and the Danish islands were at the crossroads of influences from the South to the North. There were two main routes from the Roman frontiers to Denmark: 1) along the middle Danube and through Poland to the mouth of the Vistula, and 2) through the Roman north-western provinces.107 These were presumably also routes of knowledge. Military confrontations and special expeditions also gathered geographical information. The impact of exped­ itions and other frontier contacts can be seen in loanwords. Interaction involved trade and the exchange of luxuries and commodities, including their names. The Germanic word for amber may be reflected in Lat. glésum, and OHG archa, ‘container’, derives from Lat. arca^ ‘box’.108 Pomponius Mela The first author from the first century A.D. I wish to discuss here is Pomponius Mela. Nothing is known of him except for his Spanish origin. Mela repeats the classical view of the North, but also adds new details about the northern ocean and introduces new names. His De Chorographia (c. A.D. 44) is the earliest Latin geographical work of any kind that survives today.109 It is in the form of direction for a mariner, a mixture of places and features that Mela finds to be the best known, the most 105 Examples of influences are the development of runic script in the 1st and 2nd centuries A.D., decorative art, and weapons. For evidence of contacts, see Randsborg 1991: 9-12, 138-143; Franchi dell’Orto 1996; Jensen 2003: 339-374; Jorgensen et al. 2003. 106 por the route of a potential voyage round the Danish islands by a Roman ex­ pedition and the possibility of diplomatic meetings, see Storgaard 2003: 110-112. 107 Hansen 1996: 101. A route map by Jankuhn (1986: 17-18) also includes a less prominent route along the Oder. 108 Green 1998: 219-230. 109 Trans. Römer 1998.

64 The North in the Old English Orosius

important, or the most interesting, and although he can be sceptical, he still remains basically non-judgemental. Mela was aiming to explain the puzzling order of the world, perpelexus ordo,, by describing places on the coasts of the three known continents. After a general introduction to a continent, he sets out to name its places and peoples in a geographical order. Mela’s work is a pseudo -periplus in the sense that the voyage is imaginary. It is often assumed that Mela used a map, or that the text doubles as a map, but there is no evidence for either suggestion. Mela’s De Chorographia was rediscovered in the Renaissance, although it was copied and used in Francia in the ninth century.110 The images of the northern edge of the world are familiar from earlier sources: the division of the world into five zones with an outer ocean, the frozen sea, the Rhipaen Mountains, extending as far as Europe, and the Hyperboreans. Beyond these live the Amazons and many other named groups which can be located in central Asia. Another image is the alter­ nating six-month periods of daylight and night.111 Mela locates Thule near the coast of the Belcae, who are equivalent to the Scythians.112 In his description of Thule, Mela’s narrative reflects other authorities, such as Strabo and Pliny the Elder. Romm suggests that it is possible that these three authors, who were the principal geographers of the early Roman Empire, were ultimately looking for new undiscovered land that the Romans could conquer, the island of Thule and the northern coasts of Germania were such areas.113 Mela describes the usual suspects, i.e. the unknown, uncivilized peo­ ples living in the long-isolated islands of Britain; the farther away from the sea they are, the more ignorant they are of wealth other than sheep and land, and they harass one another constantly. On the far side of Britain are the similarly ignorant people of Ireland.114 Moving away from the pecu­ liarities of the main British Isles, Mela mentions the Orcades, ‘the Orkneys’, which are here named for the first time. These are followed by the seven Heamodae, which could refer to Danish islands.115 These extend opposite 110 Lozovsky 1996: 32-33, 38-39; Römer 1998: 5-6,20-22,31; Römer 2001: 2-3. 111 Mela 1.12-13; 2.1; 3.36; 3.45. 112 Mela 3.36; 3.57. The Belcae are unknown in other sources unless their name is related to Pliny’s island of Baida. 113 Romm 1992: 123. 114 Mela 3.53. 115 According to Bunbury (1959: 361 n. 9), Heamodae is a corruption of Habudes (Hebrides) in Pliny’s NH 4.16(103), but the islands are placed erroneously. Roller

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 65

Germania in the huge sinus Codanus, ‘Codanus Bay’, which is filled with islands. One of the islands is Codanovia, which stood out for its large size and fertility.116 This name appears to refer to some part of southern Scandinavia, which was understood to be an island, and the name may be related to the terms Scadinavia/Scatinavia. It is suggested that even noninsular lands were called insula because the word carried a strong conno­ tation of remoteness and barbarity.117 Inhabitants of these islands are, according to Mela’s authorities, Oeonae (Birds of Prey), Hippodes (Horsefeet), and Panotii (All-Ears). The Cimbri and the Teutoni live by the Codanus Bay. Mela’s emphasis is on the Danish islands and the Judand Peninsula, which may be what he means when he mentions a long brow of land to which the sea adapts.118 Mela gives a somewhat confusing picture of the North Sea/Baltic region, and even states himself at one point that what is to be found there sometimes seems to be islands and at other times one continuous land mass.119 Some of the confusion may derive from the Romans’ inability to distinguish barbarian groups.120 As a result, a reconstruction of Mela’s information is difficult, particularly as it concerns the Codanus Bay in the northern ocean. The bay may not have been either some part of the (south) Baltic or the south-eastern North Sea, but actually both in different textual contexts.121 At this point, it is useful to mention how different the conceptual geography of the Greeks and Romans was from that of medieval or mod­

(2006: 73) states that the use of collective names for the islands seems to derive from a cartographic source. 116 Mela 3.29; 3.31; 3.54. Other versions of the text have Codanum and Codanonia. The term is often emended to accord with Pliny’s Scatinavia, see Ahlenius 1900: 24; Bunbury 1959: 362 n. 2; Svennung 1963b: 12; Römer 1998: 117; Grane 2003: 134; cf. Wenskus 1984a; Rübekeil 2002: 599-600 (who also comments on Solinus’s Gangavia). 117 Gautier Dalché, Patrick 1986: "Comment penser l’Ocean. Modes de connaissances des fines orbis terrarum du nord-ouest (de l'Antiquité au XI Ile siede)’: 221-224, as cited by Chekin 1993: 493. 118 Mela 3.32 (brow of land); 3.54; 3.56. Mela’s placement of the Teutons on the island of Codanovia/Scadinavia is probably a mistake, see Rübekeil 2002: 602. 119 Mela 3.55. 120 Cf. Reynolds 1998: 26. 121 For interpretations, see Ahlenius 1900: 23; Bunbury 1959: 362; Römer 1998: 109; Grane 2003: 134; Neumann 1984a; Wenskus 1984b.

66 The North in the Old 'English Orosius

em times. A categorization of classical awareness of space was dominated by five imaginative modes which illustrate this difference:122 1) the itinerary space or periplus 2) an imagined view from a high place 3) climatic or terrestrial zones 4) the nearest places visited by the narrative society 5) a geometric schema described by symmetries of land forms and rivers. All of these approaches can be found in the descriptions of the North. Pytheas exemplifies the itinerary approach, and zonal descriptions include what was known of the northernmost regions in every textual context in which they appear. The View from a high place’ mode was a survey of lands as if the author was looking at them from above, sweeping his eye over the marine or terrestrial topography. The last two methods apply to long-distance voyages for trade or exploration and frontier contacts, and to the representation of parallel waterways in the north and south of the world. Pliny the Elder Gaius Plinius Secundus, or Pliny the Elder (c. 23-79), a military man, advocate, and writer, managed to finish his great work Naturalis Historia (Natural History, NH) shordy before the fumes of Mount Vesuvius’s infamous eruption killed him. His work was very popular and influential throughout the Middle Ages. Pliny states that he wishes to avoid criticism of other authors, an attempt in which he did not fully succeed. lik e Strabo, Pliny admits that he cannot be totally comprehensive in his de­ scription of the world, and that his sources may not be totally reliable. He claims to have read two thousand volumes by one hundred authors, although he lists many more writers in the first book of his history.123 Nevertheless, he says that the subject of his work, the natural world or life, is a barren one.124 This modesty, however, belies his ambition to pro­ duce a complete description of everything. Pliny was stationed as an

122 Murphy (2004: 131) describes the modes suggested in Purcell, N. 1990: ‘The Creation of Provincial Landscape: the Roman Impact of Cisalpine Gaul'. In Blagg, T. and M. Millett (eds.): The Early Roman Empire in the West, 6-29; p. 8. 123 Piin. preaf. 17 and the catalogues of writers in bk. 1. Ed. Rackham 1958-1971. 124 Piin. preaf. 13.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 67

officer at the Lower Rhine in Germania, where he may have acquired new information about the North. Pliny starts his section on geography (books 3-4) by stating that he will only name areas from a portion of the world.125 He attempts to create order and classify peoples by where they live. At this time, geographical boundaries were determining factors in ethnic identity, in contrast to the situation in Greek texts, where the characteristics and region of a given people did not define that people as such. Pliny gives geographical loca­ tion increasing importance, and he uses as many sources as he can to fill land masses with peoples.126 This approach can also be seen in Mela’s work, where geographical location, although sometimes apparendy con­ fused, is at the core of his subject. However, the purpose of the geographical and ethnographic material was not only intellectual or organizational, but also political. In iVH, everything is organized around Rome. All the encyclopaedic material is integrated into the ideological order of the empire.127 Some of the per­ plexing geography of the North probably reflects the imperial centre’s ideological perspective on the margins.128 Pliny credits some of his information to Pytheas; the latter was the source for a reference to an ocean bay or estuary called Metuonis, which was six thousand stades (c. 1100 km) wide. Some commentators have found the length confusing but, assuming diat it is an error, the bay may be either some part or the whole of the Baltic, or possibly the long coast gof the North Sea in continental Europe.129 Its shores are inhabited by the Guiones (Gulonibus/Gutonibus, dat. p i), Germaniae genti.m) This is often 125 Piin. 3.1-2. 126 Geary 2002b: 48-49. 127 Murphy 2004: 1-25, 50-51. 128 For a detailed, but often very hypothetical interpretation of Pliny’s North, its sources, and proper names, see Svennung 1974. For a partial reconstruction of Pliny’s description, see Grane 2003:134. 129 Christensen (2002: 29) believes that in the passages based on Pytheas, Pliny is describing the North Sea, not the Baltic. Cf. Rübekeil 2002: 597 (mouth of the Elbe). 150 Piin. 37.35. The name has been emended variously to Gutones (‘Goths’) and Inguaeones (cf. Schönfeld 1965: 120; Andersson 1996: 36). Christensen (2002: 25, 31) thinks the emendations are untenable. Pekkanen (1968: 36-48) suggests that Pliny’s Guiones and Tacitus’s Suiones meant the same people, who dwell near the Gulf of Finland. Another reference by Pliny (4.99), without a comment, may also refer to the Goths; this is uncertain according to Christensen (2002: 34-35), but

68 The North in the Old English Orosius

thought to mean Goths, but this is only likely if Metuonis refers to the Baltic. Pliny gives the impression that this group were intermediaries in the amber trade, which was vast in Roman times. Pytheas also provides Pliny with the name of an amber island, Abalus or Basilia, which was only a day’s journey from the coast Baunonia and Baida may have been other names for this island in Pliny’s other sources;*131 although they may also have referred to other islands.132 Pliny’s work also contains further details about amber taken from Pytheas and references to other islands connected with amber.133 Pliny twice places the Glaesariae or Glaeriae (Glass Islands) in the mare Germanicus (the Germanic Sea), explaining that “the name comes from the Greek word for amber, which is produced there”.134 Another name, which, according to Pliny, comes from the local inhabitants, is oceanus Amakhium , Amalchian Sea’, which refers to a frozen body of water which adjoins the coast of Scythia.135 The geographical section of the NH records the names Scatinavia and Scandiae for the first time in surviving literature.136 For Pliny, Scatinavia was reliable according to Rübekeil (2002: 603). 131 Piin. 4.94-95; 37.35-36. Baunonia is from Timaeus of Tauromenium, Sicily (c. 356-270 or c. 345-250 B.C.), and Xenophon of Lampsacus’s (late 2nd-eady 1st century B.C.) is the source of Bakia (Cunliffe 2001a: 75, 145-147). Other reports mention the islands of Oeonae, where the inhabitants live of birds’ eggs and oats, or have horses’ feet, and the islands of the All-Ears, who need no clothing be­ cause of their big ears. These islands are situated off the Scythian coast. In my opinion, the two latter terms may originate from observations of some type of fur or leather footwear and headgear with earflaps. 132 Rübekeil (2002: 597) also suggests that Bakia was another name for Scatinavia and that Bakia is a scribal error. 133 Pliny (37.30; 37.47) does not mention Pytheas, but describes amber and its quality; 1.37 lists Pytheas as a source. 134 Piin. 4.103-104; 4.97; 37.42: ...et ab adversa in Germanicum mare sparsae Glaesariae quas Ekctridas Graea recentiores appellavere, quod ibi ekctrum nasceretur. 135 Piin. 4.94. Hecateus of Abdere was the source of the name (Bunbury 1897: 140 n. 2,148 n. 7). 136 Piin. 4.96 Scatinavia; 4.104 Scandiae\ 8.39 Scadinavia. Scatinavia acquired an n in later MSS. Scandiae may be metathesis of Scadniae (Svennung 1974: 51-56). The name may originate from PG *skaþin~/skaðin-/skaþan-aujö^ but the etymology of the first element is disputed. The various early forms of Scandinavia (including ON Skáney, runic Skani) all seem to have *aujö- ‘island, land on water’. Stahl (1976: 145) lists some of the early 20th century etymologies, e.g. ‘an island in the sea of

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 69

an island of unknown size, and was the most famous of the many islands in Codanus sinus, ‘Codanus Bay’, probably the Baltic Sea. Pliny’s Scatinavia was one of the Scandiae islands, a statement which appears to result from a confusion of his sources. Both names are generally thought to refer to modem Scania and territories north of it, i.e. the southern part of Sweden or the Scandinavian Peninsula. Scatinavia and Scandiae and their various forms in different texts did not include the Judand Peninsula, which was referred to as the Cimbrian Peninsula. Pekkanen argues that Scatinavia corresponds to the whole of Fennoscandia. He compares the descriptions by Pliny (where Scandiae was alter orbis terrarum, and compared with the Mediterranean region, which was the orbis terrarum ), Pomponius Mela (where Codanovia/Scandiae was bigger than other islands), Ptolemy (where there were Scandiai islands and a proper Scandia), Procopius (where the Scandinavian island was Thule and fifty times bigger than Britain), and Jordanes (where the eastern border of Scandinavia is the River Dvina, Vagifluvius), and concludes that they all in­ dicate a very large region.137 Pliny’s Scatinavia was partly inhabited by the Hilleviones, who lived in five hundred villages or districts. This is the earliest known name of a group which is placed in Scatinavia. Interpretations vary as to the accuracy of the name or who they were; suggestions include the idea that they were ancestors of the Svear,138 or more plausibly the Leuonoi/Levoni of Ptolemy, who lived in Scandia.139 In addition to humans, a strange animal called herrings’, ‘an island of shadows’, or ‘a sand bank off Skanör’, originally referring only to Scania or to the sand banks around Skanör, the south-western tip of Scania. For the meaning ‘damage’, see Rübekeil (2002: 600), who also states that Scandiae has a Greek origin and Scadinavia is limited to the Latin tradition. Thus, the terms are not variations of the same name but designate an island group and an island respectively. The idea of two variant names was started by Ptolemy. Rübekeil makes the suggestion that the northern islands of Thule and Scandiae were created by the Greeks for the sake of geographical symmetry and as ana­ logues to Mediterranean islands of similar names. Kock (1918: 74-76) argues for the shared origin of OSw. Skäm, later Skäne, and that ODa. ö corresponded WG ä before nasals, leading to OE Sconeg, which occurs in Ohthere’s account. Lindroth (1932: 126-127) does not think that Skandinavia and Skane are related. See also de Vries 1962: 482; Hellqvist 1980: 968; Nyman 2005a. 137 Pekkanen 1992: 390-391. 138 Svennung (1974: 57-59) and Andersson (2005: 597) emend to ilk suionum gente, ‘the renowned Suiones people’. 139 Ahlenius 1900: 30. Pekkanen (1992: 390) argues that Hilleviones is a corrupted

70 The North in the Old English Orosius

achlis lived in Scatinavia. It was never seen in Rome, although, according to Pliny, many stories about this animal had been told. The beast is like an elk, but has such a large upper lip that it grazes backwards in order not to trip on it. It sleeps leaning on a tree and is remarkably swift. This animal could have been the reindeer.*140 Most of the topographical details of the North Sea and Baltic region mentioned in NH have been identified, although not with complete cer­ tainty. For instance, an enormous mountain called Saevo, as big as the Rhipaen mountain range, is said to extend to the sea, forming the enor­ mous Codanus Bay which reaches to the Cimbrian promontory. Saevo could mean the Scandinavian mountain range or a mountain in Norway;141142 both are reasonable interpretations. The Tastris peninsula is on the Cimbrian promontory, and perhaps refers to the cape of Skagen on northern Judand.142 The Cimbri and the Teutones belonged to the Inguaeones, which was the name for the northernmost Germani, who were located in Judand and the Danish islands, but also on the mainland coast of the North Sea.143 The island of Aeningia is as big as Scatinavia. Which island or coastal territory Aeningia was is unknown, but suggested meanings are ‘the island of the P enni, southern Finland, or some other region in the north-eastern Baltic which was perceived as an island.144 Pliny names yet another island and two more bays: the island of Latris is in sinus Cjlipenus, and sinus Lagnus borders on the Cimbri. Both bay names probably refer to some of the straits between or off the Danish islands and the Judand Peninsula, and Latris must be one of the islands.145

form. 140 Piin. 8.39; Ahlenius 1900: 31; Gilhus 2006: 70. Part of Pliny’s account comes from Caes. B Gal VL27. 141 Piin. 4.96; Thomson 1948: 241; Svennung 1974: 38-39,42-49; Reichert 2004. 142 Piin. 4.97; Ahlenius 1900: 26-27; Svennung 1974: 76-77; Rives 1999: 270; Reichert 2005b. 143 Piin. 4.96; 4.99-100; Svennung 1974: 38-42; Christensen 2002: 31; Grane 2003: 134. 144 Piin. 4.96-97. Ahlenius 1900: 31. Svennung (1974: 67-70) emends Aeningia to *Fenningia (an emendation which is agreed with by Rübekeil 2002: 601-602), an old name for Finland derived from Penni, 145 Ahlenius 1900: 31; Svennung 1974: 70-75; for Latris, see Günnewig 2001; for Cylipenus, see Neumann 1984b.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 71

Pliny provides more information, which comes from two Greek au­ thors who recorded a voyage along north-western Europe but whose works have been lost. They mention the Rubaeae promontory, a frozen or ‘dead’ sea, locally called Morimarusa,, and the mare Croniumy ‘the Cronian Sea’. The identity of these features is difficult to deduce, but it has been suggested that the promontory was in the Baltic and the Cronian Sea was in the North Adantic or the Arctic Ocean north of the Arctic Circle.146 T his passage in Pliny implies that the Greeks had more knowledge of the North than we know from extant evidence.147 Pliny accepts the idea of Thule, which he considers to be the most remote island, although “some writers speak of other islands as well, the Scandiae, Dumnam, Bergos, and Berrice [variant reading Nerigon], the largest of all, from which the crossing to Thule starts”.148 The frozen Cronian Sea is one day’s sail away from Thule. This passage appears to be another instance of Pliny confusing his source materials. The credit to Pytheas would, however, indicate that Pytheas sailed as far as the Baltic and returned with a substantial nomenclature for the region. Pliny does not doubt the existence of the Hyperboreans. They dwell in their caves beyond a region where the summer and winter solstices last for six months, yet they enjoy an extraordinarily good life to an extremely old age. The Hyperborean lands must be situated at almost the same latitude as Thule, since they also have six months of daylight.149 Pliny gives the relative northern positions of Thule and the Hyperboreans in a section where he describes the parallel zones of the earth.150 The second most northern parallel is the location of the Hyperboreans and Britain, and the last parallel is the location of Scythia, the Rhipaen Mountains, and Thule. Thule and the Hyperboreans are in opposite directions, i.e. west and east, respectively. 146 Piin. 4.95. The Greeks were Xenophon and Philemon (early 1st century A.D.), see Lönborg 1900-1902: 22-24; Ahlenius 1900: 27. Svennung (1974: 26-34) suggests that Rubaea was the southernmost point in Norway. 147 Ahlenius 1900: 27; Svennung 1974: 10-11. 148 Piin. 4.104: Ultima omnium quae memorantur Tyle... sunt qui et alias prodant, Scandias, Dumnamy Bergos, maximamque omnium Berricen, ex qua in Tylen navigetur. For Pytheas and Thule, see Piin. 2.186; cf. Roller 2006: p. 87. Nerigon is sometimes thought to refer to Norway, cf. ON Noregr(p.g. Nansen 1911: 44). 149 Piin. 4.89-91. For Pliny’s sources, see Bridgman 2005: 84-86. 150 Piin. 6.219. The Rhipaens are beyond most other places or groups (Piin. 4.78,88).

72 The North in the Old English Orosius

Pliny’s North is an amalgamation of different sources from different periods. His aim was to be comprehensive from a Roman perspective, but the result is not fully comprehensible or consistent. Pliny knows the northern coasts and rivers, but the islands are a puzzling mixture, perhaps because much of the knowledge was gathered from coastal voyages along the mainland. Coasts and rivers are a constant point of reference.151 Christensen finds it impossible to identify one particular island for which Pliny gives different names from different sources (Abalus, Basilia, Baunonia,, and Baläa).152 One passage goes some way towards explaining this particular overlap and how the organization of sources caused diffi­ culties. When he wonders about the vast extent of Sarmatia and the un­ countable number of migrating groups there, Pliny mentions that some large islands beyond Germania have only recently been discovered.153 In the case of the Abalus island, Pliny may have confused older information with more recent accounts. Pliny’s apparent confusion may not have been altogether innocent consequence of conflicting sources. There may be an intentional political purpose behind the description of the North as incoherent, or “watery chaos”, as Murphy describes the ancient descriptions of what existed beyond the limits of the world. Pliny and other Roman authors, e.g. the philosopher Plutarch (A.D. c. 50-120), were conscious of how they represented marginal regions. Myths and unverifiable knowledge have a value in political narratives, functioning as a contrast to the reliable, au­ thorized knowledge and order of Rome. The outer ocean, an icy sea, was the limit of the Roman Empire, and anything by, beyond or in it was un­ inhabitable, chaotic or primitive, and was never really meant to be part of Rome. It was consequently only natural that is should be outside Rome’s limits. Another reason for the apparent confusion might be Pliny’s concern about the decay of knowledge. The successful expansion of the empire erased smaller kingdoms and communities, and as a consequence para­ doxically also erased knowledge specific to these conquered lands. Pliny 151 Murphy 2004:136. 152 Christensen 2002: 30-31. There was Terra incognita beyond Abalus, an amber island, which is Heligoland in the North Sea, according to Cunliffe 2001a: 146147, 150; Grane 2003: 129; contra Journés and Georgelin 2000: 123 (the penin­ sula of Samland); Roller 2006: 90. Rübekeil (2002: 597) believes that Abalus and Basilia are names for Heligoland. 153 Piin. 2.246.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 73

may have been in a rush to include everything he could in his represen­ tation of the North, with the result that the end product was less than coherent. However, he still had enough time to categorize the knowledge and present it in such a way that Roman life is the implicit norm against which all other peoples and lands are measured.154 The apparent confusions and overlaps imply that there were more sources about the North than those Pliny names or that we know about. For instance, the source of Pliny’s comment on the stories about the elk/reindeer in Scatinavia is not known. The northernmost groups in Tacitus’s Germania Publius Cornelius Tacitus (c. A.D. 56-118) wrote Germania (or De Origine et Situ Germanorum), in 98. Tacitus was bom in Gaul but came to Rome and is known to have held various government posts, finally holding the office of the proconsulship of Asia. Germania is the most detailed early descrip­ tion of the areas north of the Rhine. The inhabitants of Germania are portrayed as different from the Romans, and Tacitus comments critically on their way of life.155 He appears not to have any personal knowledge of Germania, but relied heavily on other authors, such as Pliny the Elder. Traditionally, scholarly commentaries on the earliest descriptions of the North begin with Tacitus, because earlier sources are considered too unre­ liable or uncertain. However, Germania has its own difficulties, e.g. the manuscript tradition is problematic and complicates the study of the work as a historical source. Tacitus’s knowledge extends to the North, but the geographical infor­ mation he gives is scanty and ambiguous, since Germania is essentially an ethnographic work. In the second part of Germania,, Tacitus describes Germani groups, rather than tribal lands, in a geographical order, be­ ginning with the Rhine and the Danube and proceeding north. He seems to be viewing the region from a west Germani border area. Germania bordered on the ocean, where there were bays and large islands, but Tacitus had only a faint idea of the Danish islands, and he mentions group-names from east of the Elbe but no geographical names from this

154 These ideas about political purpose and the decay of knowledge are based on Murphy 2004: 20-25, 69-72, 94,176-183 (quote p. 25). 155 For example, Tac. Germ. 4-6, 46; ed. Much 1967; trans. Rives 1999. Tacitus’s other works, Annales and Histories, of which only parts survive, also include passages on Germania.

74 The North in the Old English Orosius

area.156 Tacitus repeats traditional images connected with the northern edge of Europe: a possible reference to the Jutland Peninsula in the sea, a sluggish, icy sea, light nights, and amber, which he links with the Aestii, who probably lived in southern Baltic.157 He also describes the dress of the Germani, and says that some groups wear the skins of wild beasts, some of which come from the outer ocean or unknown seas. This has been taken to be the earliest reference to the northern fur trade.158 The name Aestii seems to have been primarily a geographical designation. According to Tacitus, the Aestii are composed of several groups, aestiorum gentes. He describes some of their habits as well as their amber, and says that their language is close to that of the Britons. The reference to language is probably erroneous, but it shows that Tacitus had information that their language was different from other Germanic lan­ guages, since he thought the A estii were Germani. The early Aestii could have been amber-collecting groups who would be categorized partly as Balts and partly as Baltic Finns (Fi. Itämerensuomalaiset).159 Tacitus does not mention Codanovia, Scandiae, or Scatinavia, but he men­ tions immense islands in the sea, which may refer to the same lands as the above names were perceived to mean by Mela and Pliny.160 He says that the Romans have only lately learned about nations and kingdoms on these islands. Several of the groups named by Tacitus have been assigned specific locations in the North by scholars. Some of them are placed in Schleswig-Holstein, Judand, and on the Danish islands, such as the Cimbri and those who worshipped the fertility goddess Nerthus, i.e. the Reudigni, Varini, Angli, Aviones, Eudoses, Suardones, and Nuithones.l6i Näsman suggests

156 Tac. Germ. 1,1; cf. Askeberg 1944: 88-89; Pekkanen 1983:177. 157 Tac. Germ. 1 , 45; Rives 1999: 317. The Aestii live by the Suebicum mare (the Svebian Sea, i.e. part of the Baltic). They are traditionally placed in the southern Baltic region. According to Tacitus ((Germ. 45,5), amber originates from trees, and birds and insects are found enclosed in it. It is found in shallows and on shores, but the locals do no appreciate it. For the bay /peninsula reference, see Much 1967: 36-37, 519. 158 Tac. Germ. 17; Much 1967: 272. 159 Pekkanen 1967: 111-112; Rübekeil 2002: 602. Language is not necessarily a de­ fining factor for the categorization of a group. 160 Cf. Much 1967: 37. 161 Tac. Germ. 37, 40; Much 1967: 416-418. The Reudigni, Aviones, Suardones, and Nuithones are unknown from other sources.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 75

that Tacitus and Ptolemy’s group-names correspond to tribal areas in southern Scandinavia, and can be detected as archaeological cultures.162 Tacitus gives the first mention not only of the A ngli but also of the Fenniy whom he describes as wild savages living in poverty, since they have no horses, arms or homes but have to shelter themselves with tree branches twisted together.163 They wear skins and use arrows with bone tips.164 Tacitus does not know whether to include the Fenni amongst the Sarmatians or the Germani. The identification of the Fenni has intrigued scholars for centuries. In the light of recent discourse on ethnic processes, it has become more complicated to link an ancient name to an ethnic or cultural group or to distinguish groups which would have identified themselves as different from other groups. Nevertheless, the Fenni are still most commonly identified with the Sami, and only secondarily with the Finns or their ancestors in southern Finland. Alternatively, the term Fenni in Germania may mean neither the Sami or their ancestors nor one or several Finnic groups, but may refer to any inhabitant of the present-day Nordic countries who had a lifestyle which accorded with Tacitus’s Roman con­ ception of savagery, i.e. did not cultivate land permanently, used skins for clothing, and built shelters using branches. Furthermore, the etymology of the name is still unknown, despite many theories.165

162 Näsman 1999a: 7. 163 The shelters may be cone-shaped huts where skins covered a wooden frame. These have been used by the Sami until today. 164 Ikäheimo et ai (2004) discuss Bronze and Iron Age bone arrowheads from Finnish Ostrobothnia. Experiments have shown them to be highly effective. It is possible that these arrowheads had a wide distribution in Fennoscandia. 165 For these issues and etymology, see pp. 381-383. Milan (2001: 98-100) compares the description in Tacitus with ethnographic descriptions of the Sami from between the 16th and 19th centuries. He concludes that Tacitus is reliable, and that Fenni meant the Sami until the Late Middle Ages. The study contains no discussion of source criticism or ethnicity, but it provides a useful chronicle of descriptions and interpretations of Fenni and Sami. The Fenni have also been iden­ tified with people in the forest zone of eastern Europe in or near the Baltic lands. It is argued that Tacitus would have contrasted the more civilized peoples of Suebia with the barbarian Fenni, and the fact that he did not make ethnic dis­ tinctions means that some of the Fenni were (the ancestors of) Balts (Nowakowski 1996: 116). This study fails to examine the representation of the Fenni in other sources and lacks source criticism.

76 The North in the Old English Orosius

Tacitus also mentions the Suiones for the first time. These are usually equated with the later Svear although, as previously discussed, these identifications are problematic, since we cannot be certain that groupnames denote exclusively ethnic groups and ethnic continuity is a complicated concept. Translating Suiones as ‘Svear’ implies that a Svea ethnicity existed at the time, but this may not have been the case. Tacitus moves from the description of the southern Baltic direcdy to a description of the land of the Suiones in the sea. It is not clear whether this means that the Suiones lived on an island.166 The strength of the Suiones was in their men and weapons, but above all their ships, and they had only one leader. Beyond the Suiones lay another ocean, which was heavy, almost immobile, and by which sunlight continued throughout the night. On the basis of these topographical references, scholars have placed the Suiones in south or south-eastern Sweden, the Mälar Valley, or Middle Norrland.167 How­ ever, the information in Tacitus is not sufficient for any more precise location than a land with access to the sea. The land on the coast of central Sweden has risen about ten metres since the first century A.D., and Lake Mälar was a bay rather than a lake in Tacitus’s time. Some scholars suggest that the reference to the immobile ocean beyond the Suiones could have meant the ice-covered Gulf of Bothnia.168 A group called the Sitones live adjacent to the Suiones. According to Tacitus, they shared a land border with the Suiones. The only difference between these two groups is that the Sitones have a female sovereign, which is horrifying for Tacitus.169 This may reflect the ancient conception of mundus inversus, which had obverse and reverse sides. A female leader on the edge of the world was a reverse social phenomenon in comparison to

166 Pekkanen (1968: 23-35) suggests that the Suiones lived in the south-eastern Baltic region. However, Rives (1999: 311-312) concludes that the general opinion that the Suiones lived on an island is more likely, criticizing Pekkanen for crediting Tacitus with better geographical knowledge than he was likely to have had. How­ ever, Rives also assumes much of Tacitus. Scholarly speculation on early geo­ graphical knowledge or perception is typical in the field of ancient history. 167 Tac. Germ. 44-45. For interpretations of this passage, see Svennung 1963a; ed. Much 1967: 493-504; Gahm 1988: 40-41; Sawyer 1991a: 2, 11; Hyenstrand 1996: 37-38; Nyman 2005b. 168Jensen 2003: 561. The impact of the rising of the land on the interpretation of ancient and medieval geographical conceptions of the North has not been ad­ equately considered by commentators. 169 Tac. Germ. 45.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 77

the proper Roman culture.170 Alternatively, it may simply be a foreigner’s view of strange lifestyles rather than a mirror of morals.171 Scholars have placed the Sitones in various regions, from the south­ eastern Baltic to the north of the Carpathians, the eastern Baltic coastal region and on the Finnish coast.172 Some commentators have identified the Sitones with the ON Kvenir (the Cmnas in Ohthere’s account), who are thought to have lived around the Gulf of Bothnia. This identification is based on an assumed confusion between a land of women, the Amazons, and the etymological connection between Kvenir and ON kvœn^ ‘woman5.173 However, this theory is unreliable.174 Pekkanen suggests that the Sitones are the Sidoni of Strabo and to be found somewhere between the Carpathians and the Baltic. He emphasizes that it is important to study group-names in their textual context and not in isolation, e.g. the content and other names in the relevant sequence or section should also be considered. If there are two descriptions of roughly the same region which represent the same textual tradition, it is likely that variant names within them refer to the same group rather than different groups, especially if most of the variations are roughly identical.175 At the moment, however, there is still uncertainty about the identification of the Sitones

.

170 Lund 1993: 40-43. 171 Martin 2004: 702. 172 For discussions, see Much 1967: 517-521; Pekkanen 1983: 177 (north of the Carpathians); Grane 2003: 135; Nowakowski 1996: 109 (Baltic lands); Huurre 2000: 156 (Finland). 173 Adam of Bremen 4.14, 17, and schol. 123; Thomson 1948: 244; Svennung 1963a: 138-141; Julku 1980: 51-52; cf. Much 1967: 516-521; for Adam, see also p. 390 in this study. Sawyer (1991a: 11 n. 2, 29) suggests that the Sitones could be linked with a cemetery at Tuna in Badelunda near Lake Mälar, unless the name refers to the Kvenir. The Tuna cemetery (dated to the period between the 4th century and the Viking Age) contains unusually many high-status female shipburials. Sawyer’s suggestion is interesting, particulady since other similar burials are known from the region and female leaders probably served in religious con­ texts (Sundqvist 2002: 79-83). The idea of a community led by women, even before Tuna cemetery, in the wealthy and well-connected Malar region is not in­ conceivable. 174 Pekkanen 1968; Rives 1999: 312-322. 175 Pekkanen 1968: 59-76; Pekkanen 1992: 393-394. Rives (1999: 321) disagrees and finds Tacitus’s information too obscure for identification.

78 The North in the Old Engäsh Orosius

The last two groups mentioned by Tacitus are the ‘fabulous5 Hellusi and the Oxiones, men with the bodies and limbs of beasts.17617Pekkanen places the Oxiones in eastern Finland and the Hellusi east of them. He suggests that Fenni refers to the Sami at the eastern end of the Gulf of Finland, and that the information about them travelled via waterways from the Lake Ladoga region to the eastern Baltic. Tacitus’s geographical approach leads the reader gradually to the eastern Baltic, and from there further north and north-east. Pekkanen links the etymologies of Hellusi and Oxiones with the two most important totemic animals in the area—elk (linked to Hellusi via an IE root) and bear (linked with Oxiones via Fi. oksi)}11 This theory combines textual and philological interpretations with folklore and archaeology, and is attractive, but cannot be evaluated here. I agree with Pekkanen that some descriptions of fabulous creatures in ancient texts originate from accounts of men wearing clothes made of skins and furs, and perhaps carrying striking attire or masks, which may have had totemic, ethnic, religious, or other meanings. This view does not contradict the classical and medieval belief in the fabulous: strangelooking people or creatures and fabulous monsters can be two sides of the same coin. Tacitus succeeded in what Roman generals could not achieve: he in­ corporated Germania into the Roman world, albeit the literary one.178 Tacitus is considered to be a great historian. His main works were Agricola (On the U fe o f Julius Agricola), dated A.D. 98, a biography of his father-inlaw, and Historiae, which deals with events in the mid-first century (A.D. 14-68). In Agricola, he mentions a Roman circumnavigation of the British Isles as if Pytheas had never existed, possibly knowingly omitting Pytheas 176 Tac. Germ. 46. 177 Pekkanen 1983. For theories relating the two group-names to marine fauna and other natural phenomena, see Much 1967: 534-537; for possible Greek ori­ gins, see Rives 1999: 328. The relationship between myth and reality is discussed by Adrienne Mayor (2001). She deals with ancient Greek and Roman identi­ fications of the fossilized bones of prehistoric animals. Many of the legendary creatures, e.g. griffins, had a real basis in fossil finds. She convincingly criticizes the misconception that the Greeks and the Romans did not indulge in rational speculation about evolution and the origin of species. Mayor’s study shows well how some scholarly views can be a result of misunderstandings of ancient sources rather than of the ancients having misunderstood their environment. Conceptions of peoples, places, and phenomena were not all mythical, but could also be natur­ alistic and empirical. 178 Rives 1999: 56.

The North in Ancient and Eady Medieval Geography 79

for political reasons. It has a reference to Thule (the Shedands?) which was observed from a distance and where a Roman fleet was planning to row.179801 Ptolemy’s North Tacitus can hardly be called a geographer, but his near contemporary Claudius Ptolemaeus (Ptolemy, c. A.D. 90-165) who lived in Alexandria, can be called one of the greatest geographers of all time.100 The greatest of his many works is Geographike Hyphégesis (Manual o f Geography), which includes a map. It combines a treatise on cartography and a mathematical manual for other map-makers, and presents the current state of know­ ledge in the 110s.181 Six of the eight books consist mosdy of lists of locations, organized according to Ptolemy’s system. He gives each geo­ graphical feature a longitude and a latitude and is more interested in the coordinates than place-names. He located as many places as possible by using earlier geographical writings and regional maps, even though his sources were not all fully reliable. The blend of Greek theory and Roman practice was nevertheless advancement in the accuracy of representa­ tion.182 Ptolemy’s methodology was rejected by early Christian scholars as inappropriate for expressing the Christian worldview. The Arabs adopted Ptolemy’s cartography, but the work was practically unknown in the Roman West until the twelfth century. No copy of the original has survived, but manuscripts based on it were brought to Western Europe. After it was translated into Latin in Florence in 1406, it had a profound impact on Western geography and cartography. However, there is still no critical edition and English translation of the whole work. It is difficult to know how close the later maps are to the original archetypes, assuming that Ptolemy himself drew the maps for his work. What follows here is a brief survey of the North in the manual, during which the above difficul­ ties should be borne in mind. Ptolemy’s concept of the northern edge of the world was influenced by Eratosthenes and his successors. He gives the fullest description of Germania so far, although, in comparison with modern knowledge, his 179 Tac. Agr. 10.4-5; Roman and Roman 1999: 47. 180 Estimates of Ptolemy’s lifetime vary; some examples are 100-175, 85-165, 90168, and 90-150. 181 Ed. Cuntz 1923 (books 2.7-3.1, Europe); trans. Berggren and Jones 2000. 182 Bunbury 1959: 546-577; Dilke 1985: 75-81; Dilke 1987a; Edgerton 1987: 27; Berggren and Jones 2000: 23-27, 50-52.

80 The North in the Old English Orosius

directions and scale are distorted.183 For him, everything beyond 63° was terra incognita. The island of Thule marked the northern limit of the known world. The Duécalidonian and Sarmatian Oceans surround the northern­ most parts of Europe, and the Hyperborean Ocean lay north of Ireland.184 For Ptolemy, the Hyperboreans (identified with the Sarmatians) and the Rhipaens were a reality. Beyond all the oceans there was more unknown land, which lay north of the Scythians. Ptolemy, or his sources, did not know that the Scandinavian Peninsula was attached to the continent, and thought of the North in terms of islands, a peninsula, and many peoples.185 He mentions the Cimbrian Peninsula (Jutland), which was inhabited by several named groups. East of this lay four islands called Scandiai, The three Alocian islands were north of the Cimbrian Peninsula, and east of it were three unnamed smaller islands. The small Scandiai islands may be some of the Danish islands (e.g. Funen, Langeland, Lolland, or Zealand) although the location given for them is closer to Godand than Judand.186 The reference to the Alocian islands may denote the landscape of the southern Norwegian fjords and coastal islands,187 northern Judand (the landscape of Lim Fjord),188 or the islands off the east coast of northern Judand. According to Ptolemy’s coordinates and directions, the Baltic coastline was almost completely straight and ran along the 56th parallel.189 One large island in the eastern part of the sea is called ‘proper Scandia\ According to the coordinates given, it was north of the mouth of the Vistula. Different theories identify this island as Godand, the Scandi­ navian Peninsula, Scania alone, Scania and the Danish islands, Sweden, or the whole of Fennoscandia. It was inhabited by seven tribes: the Phinnoi in the north, the Khaideinoi in the west, the Goutai and Daukiones in the south, the Phauonai and Phiraisoi in the east, and the Leuonoi in the centre.190 183 Dilke 1984: 348; Berggren and Jones 2000: 22,132-133. 184 Ptol. 1.1; 1.7; 7.5; 2.2; 2.5; 2.21; 5.8.7-10; cf. Berggren and Jones 2000: 169, 175. Ptolemy’s Thule was probably the Shedands, see Bunbury 1959: 585; Dilke 1987a: 194; Berggren and Jones 2000: 180. 185 Ptol. 2.11; 2.1.3; 8.6.4. 186 For identification of these islands with a location in the south-eastern Baltic, see Reichert 2005a: 579-580. 187 Grane 2003: 142. 188 Rübekeil 2002: 600; Hedeager 2005: 500; Reichert 2005a. 189 Cf. Dilke 1987a: 196. 190 Ptol. 2.11.16.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 81

The Phinnoi are presumably the Penni of Tacitus. They were the north­ ernmost group in Ptolemy’s geography. The name Goutai can be corres­ ponded with later names for peoples in southern Sweden, either Sw. Gutar or, more likely, Sw. Götar, ON Gautar.V)X Heather wonders whether Ptolemy’s reference to Goutai in Scandia could somehow explain the later idea of Scandinavian Goths, although the Goutai would not be directly connected with the Goths on the continent.191192 Some scholars believe that Ptolemy’s Scandia, Mela’s Codanovia, and Pliny's Scatinavia and Scandiae were the sources for the Scandinavian origin myth of the Goths which was recorded a few centuries later.193* All the above group-names have been discussed many times. The following suggestions are by Svennung (adhering to Otto von Friesen), but they must be deemed tentative: the Khaideinoi were in Hedemark, north of Oslo, the Phauonai and Phiraisoi in southern Finland, the Daukiones were the Danes, and Leuonoi is a misspelling of Tacitus’s Suiones (Sueoni).w This theory is based on the idea that Scandia was the Scandi­ navian Peninsula. If, on the other hand, this name referred to Fennoscandia, the ljeuonoi in the centre could be placed in central Fennoscandia, which would correspond with the coastal districts along the mouth of the Gulf of Bothnia in modem geographical terms.195 Ptolemy places the Gythones (Goths?) somewhere on the eastern side of the Lower Vistula.196 He also mentions for the second time the Phinnoi in the same region; this may be a duplication of Penni from a different source.197 Duplication of names also occurs elsewhere in the work. If the Phinnoi was connected with both north-eastern Europe and Scandia, it may

191 Svennung 1974: 215-216; Andersson 1996: 33-34, 36. Gahrn (1988: 60-61) writes that the name Goutai implies that the group referred to is the Gutary who are connected with Godand, but the topography implies the Götar. 192 Heather 1998: 27. 193 Christensen 2002: 257-258 (from Ptolemy); Goffart 2006: 65-66. 19* Svennung 1974: 207-230. 195 Pekkanen 1992: 391. The Malar and Satakunta regions on the opposite sides of the Bothnian coast were under the Swedish hundare administrative system in the early medieval period, but Pekkanen thinks Pliny’s 500 villages (5 x 100) of PUllemones may refer to an early version of this system. Cf. Svennung 1974: 114116. 196 Ptol. 3.5.8. For Goths, see Wolfram 1988: 37-38; Rives 1999: 309; Urbanczyk 2001: 523. 197 Ptol. 3.5.8; Much 1967: 527; Dilke 1984: 349.

82 The North in the Old English Orosius

have referred to speakers of Finno-Ugric (FU) languages either in Fennoscandia or in the northern Baltic territories. Ptolemy’s description of Germania is probably based on trade routes. For instance, the locations in the North Sea and the Baltic appear as part of a description of a sea route from the mouth of the Rhine along Jutland and among the Danish islands to the amber regions in the eastern Baltic, which also mentions various groups living around the Vistula region. It is conceivable that this route was a familiar sailing route, and that there was regular sea traffic between the Rhine and the Baltic.198 Ptolemy’s comment on merchants’ observations during their voyages perhaps reflects a more general attitude of scepticism among authors of works on the northernmost regions in Roman times. He agrees with his source, called Marinos, who thought that a story about the width of Ireland was exaggerated because merchants are more occupied with their trade than with the truth.199 This distrust towards and reluctance to include full accounts by traders indicates that more knowledge of the North existed than has survived. However, this knowledge may have been of questionable value to scholars concerned with reputation, authority, and ideology. These traders’ reports may have been recorded in some form for contemporary usage, but not copied or archived. The existence of a variety of sources may explain why Mela, Pliny, Tacitus, and Ptolemy list different peoples in the northernmost islands. Many texts from Late Antiquity refer to the North by repeating earlier traditions. There is only space to mention some of these here. For instance, Gaius Julius Solinus (c. 230/240) used Mela and Pliny the Elder in his Collectanae rerum memorabilium (Collection o f Memorable Things), written after A.D. 200, and made Pliny’s N H digestible for medieval Christian authors, who were more familiar with Solinus’s geographical survey and catalogue of wonders than the works of authors such as Pliny and Strabo.200 As already mentioned above, Periplus o f Outer Sea is one of the better-known periploi. It was written c. 400 by Marcianus of Heraclea, and appears to rely on Ptolemy, albeit in a confused way. The text describes lands bordering the ocean from Spain to the British Isles and the island of 198 Rives 1999: 33; Jensen 2003: 465. For route suggestions, see Schütte 1917: 92137. For reconstructions of Ptolemy’s geography of the North Sea, the Baltic, and Germania, see Grane 2003: 140-141, and for a reconstruction of the route, see Storgaard 2003:117. 199 Ptol. 1.11; cf. a similar comment by Strabo 15.1.4. 200 Le Goff 1988:115.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 83

Scandia in the Baltic. There is also a reference to Germani arctoi by the historian Ammianus Marcellinus (c. 330-395) in his Res Gestae.201 In this text, as in other Roman sources, geographical knowledge had a role to fulfil, i.e. the encouragement and transmission of a feeling of Rome’s cultural superiority within a fixed scheme of knowledge. Nevertheless, authors in Antiquity and in the Early Middle Ages also had to consider geographical realities, particularly when writing about historical events, groups, and regions.202 By Ptolemy’s time the Roman Empire had expanded and explored the territory beyond its limes. After him, in the third century, the interaction between north and south changed. The Germani began to setde within the Roman Empire and take part in its defence. This policy gradually led to the emergence of the so-called successor states after the fall of Rome in 410. Mobility—in making alliances, in warfare, in finding new home­ lands—was high around the North Sea and the Baltic and in central Europe. In the third century, dynastic elites on the large Danish islands probably had personal relations with Roman provinces beyond the Rhine and the Danube. These alliances were useful for both parties: Rome had less pressure on the frontier zone, and the southern Scandinavian aristo­ cracies consolidated more power and had opportunities to expand their contacts. Textual references to amber fade away at this time, perhaps because amber trade changed routes and passed through trading centres controlled by the southern Scandinavian dynasties from the end of the second century.203 The Huns arrived in eastern Europe in 375, the Goths and other groups began to move, and the Migration Period in Europe began. The Western Roman Empire was already dissolving when the Roman emperor was deposed in 476 by a Germani military leader.204 These events caused changes in the balance between Rome as a centre and everything else as a periphery, and consequendy in the textual conception of the North.

201 Bunbury 1959: 662-663, 677-678. Alonso-Nunez (1988: 59-61) surveys the three authors. 202 Reimitz 2000: 112-113. 203 For contacts between Scandinavia and areas further south c. 200-400, see Jensen 2003: 377-391,467-490; Storgaard 2003: 114-118. 204 For these changes and the end of Rome, see Cameron 1993: 36-56.

84 The North in the Old English Orosius

2.3. Late antique and early medieval sources Merging worldviews Late antique and early Christian authors from the sixth century onwards inherited much of the Greek and Roman legacy, in terms of both content and subject matters and models for narrative style.205 It was earlier thought that geographical knowledge declined during this time.206 However, the idea of decline or passive inheritance does not sufficiendy consider the ideological contexts in which geographical descriptions were being pro­ duced, nor does it explain the discrepancy between textual geography and the real life geographical knowledge of various sections of the population. An apparent decline in geography or the appearance of repetitive elements is probably related to a conscious choice on the part of the authors to follow earlier authorities, since this method showed their own reliability and truthfulness. The imitation of traditions created by authorities, or their modification without fundamental alteration, was a way of estab­ lishing the writer’s own authority and qualifications as a writer.207 The material about the North shows both the power of earlier authorities and the value given to real or contemporary geographical knowledge. Geographical knowledge continued to exist in various contexts, e.g. in historical, encyclopaedic and geometrical writings, in writings about the natural world, and in geographical writings themselves. Lozovsky has dis­ cussed the connections between the rules and norms that early medieval geographers followed, the different realities of textual geography, and the reality that people lived and travelled in. She emphasizes the importance of studying geographical texts in their contemporary ideological context This is particularly important in the light of the fact that there was a new overpowering context for information about the world from Late Antiquity onwards— Christianity. Under Augustine’s (A.D. 354-430) influence, geographical knowledge was incorporated along with other classical knowledge into a Christian framework. The prevailing conception was that God had created the Earth, and that he directed every event on 205 Classical texts enjoyed a varying degree of popularity in the Early Middle Ages, which is reflected in the number of extant manuscript copies. There are two or three copies of Mela, at least sixteen of Pliny, c. thirty of Solinus, and forty-eight of Macrobius, some of which contain maps (Lozovsky 2000: 8 n. 3). 206 Thomson 1948: 351-389. 207 Marincola 1997. For the authority of Roman geography, see Gautier Dalché 1990:12-13.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 85

it—the divine was manifested in the physical world. Authors turned to the authority of classical and Christian texts in order to provide the best and most reliable knowledge of the Earth for their audience. Empirical obser­ vation of the Earth was not considered reliable, since it did not come from God. Intellectual classical or Christian cognition of the world was more valued, and contemporary reality was for the most part ignored, which explains the discrepancy between textual and real-life geography.208 The Christianization of classical genres gave a new purpose to geo­ graphical knowledge: to understand God. Geography had a meditative function. The world, represented as a map or in a text, earthly vanity and the transience of life were objects of contemplation. Another approach to the world was to see it as an object that needed rationalization by methods such as etymological explanation. This method was particularly popular in ninth- and tenth-century schools. In general, geographical knowledge mainly provided material for contemplation and education, and the separation between theoretical and practical knowledge seems to have been intentional.209 Changes in political and demographic circumstances after the collapse of Rome and during the migrations of the fifth and sixth centuries meant a new political geography. This was a time of the formation of Germanic chiefdoms, kingdoms or power concentrations, in Scandinavia and else­ where, and a time of movements of peoples and the formation of new alliances.210 These new situations were met by adopting and adapting many classical conceptions, but also by introducing innovations. Authors, who recorded the events that led to new political groupings, placed the North in a new context. The historians of these new groupings began to trace their non-Roman origins in central and northern continental Europe, which created a new emphasis on Germania and regions further north.211 However, only those Germanic gentes who were connected with Scandi208 Lozovsky 2000: 10-14, 33; Lozovsky 2001: 5-10. Latin historiography is uni­ formly Christian after c. 400 (Goffart 1998: 7). Much of the extant medieval geo­ graphical material remains unedited, including many glosses (Lozovsky 2001: 4). 209 Lozovsky 2000: 39-40; Lozovsky 2001: 8-11,15. 210 Näsman 1991b: 173-175; Fabech 1999a: 459. For sobering thoughts about the Migration Period and a view emphasizing continuous and natural movements and contacts between the Romans and the barbarians and how this was beneficial for both in Late Antiquity, see Goffart 2006: 13-22, 114-116, 188-197, 221-222, 233234. 211 Merrills 2005: 17-21.

86 The North in the Old English Orosius

navia had origin myths, and many of these gentes had already been men­ tioned much earlier, e.g. by Tacitus as “old names” (e.g. the Angles, Saxons, Vandals, and Burgundians).212 Geographical location had a central role in these myths. Although these groups were actually multiethnic in composition, they built their identity on a common ancestry, and thought of themselves as natural collective units of culture and descent.213 The source for the idea of northern origins for these peoples was the literate elites and various oral and textual traditions. In this way, the North was firmly established as a part of the western European Latin and Germanic developments. Debate about the historical reliability and source of the origin stories relates to the question of how different or similar oral and literate cultures really were in Late Antiquity and at the beginning of the Middle Ages.214 Travel In addition to geographical perceptions of God’s Earth, the institution­ alization of the late Roman imperial cult and Christian ideology produced empirical geography and caused a marked increase in long-distance travel and the extension of networks. This increase was due to more compli­ cated secular and ecclesiastical government, although it probably did not affect the late Roman Empire in the West, e.g. in Britain, as much as it affected the Eastern Empire. Much of the travelling was done out of necessity and disliked for its hardships. There were many kind of travellers and news bearers, such as military men, whole armies, pirate fleets, invaders, administrators, students, traders, labourers, craftsmen, couriers, bearers of gifts or relics, exiles, monks, missionaries, ambassadors, papal and royal envoys, and pilgrims. The travellers, or migrants if they did not return, spread information. They followed old sea and land routes and created new ones. After the Migration period, the eighth and ninth centuries were again a time of changes in communication patterns: new routes emerged in Europe and between Europe and the Middle East, and long-distance travel was increasing 215 McCormick has examined various forms of communication and travel in Europe between A.D. 300 and 900. 212 Cf. Hedeager 1996. 213 Reynolds 1998: 23. 214 For literacy and orality, see Richter (1994: 45-77) who emphasizes the continu­

ing importance of oral culture. 215 For travel and movements, see Kleinschmidt 2000: 264-283; McCormick 2001; Drinkwater 2004: xv-xix; Ellis and Kidner 2004a: xiii-xiv.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 87

He has identified less than 700 individual travellers in the records, who belonged mostly to religious or political elites. However, there were obviously large numbers of invisible travellers.216 Travel routes or exchange networks brought people together locally and supraregionally. Many new ports were established around the North Sea from the seventh century onwards. The Baltic Sea and routes from there to south-east were part of large exchange networks. The Frisians had an important role in trade and manufacturing, and their influence extend­ ed to the eastern Baltic. The geographical knowledge of Frisian seamen has not survived, however. Agricultural growth, a dynamic maritime eco­ nomy, a more efficient silver-based currency and relative peace during the Carolingian period were some of the main forces behind the shift of gravity from southern Europe to northern and north-western Europe between the seventh and ninth centuries.217 By the end of the ninth century, the Vikings had been making voyages for well over a hundred years. Medieval Icelandic literature contains many descriptions of voyages made in the tenth or eleventh centuries showing the wide geographical range of Viking-Age warriors, leaders, and traders and, after the con­ version, pilgrims.218 Travellers would have possessed geographical knowledge which was only partially recorded in the textual evidence. Geographical descriptions imply that an itinerary model underlay much of medieval geography, and that itineraries were of fundamental importance in the development of maps and marine charts both in Antiquity and in the Middle Ages.219 Influential ignorance Some of the most influential authors in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages had little to say about the North. They repeated Graeco216 McCormick 2001: 124, 261-267. Kabir and Williams (2005: 10) describe the Middle Ages itself as a product of ceaseless decenterings, displacements, and translations, and where cultures were in contact, confrontation, and competition. 217 Jankuhn 1986: 22-23, 38-39; Lebecq 1997: 73-75, 78. Frisia, particularly its eastern part, began to flourish and participate in international networks in the first half of the 6th century (Heidinga 1999: 12). 218Jesch 2005. 219 Ellegárd 1954-1955: 8-14; for itineraries in different periods, see Millard 1987: 108; Dilke 1987b; Dilke 1987c: 207; Harvey 1987: 495; McCormick 2001. Several of the most significant medieval itinerary maps are English, all later than the OE Or.

88 The North in the Old English Orosius

Roman conceptions about the Hyperboreans, the Rhipaens, Thule, the northern ocean, and the long periods of daylight. Such authors included Macrobius Ambrosius Theodosius (second half of the fourth century) and Martianus Capella (fourth century to early fifth century, before 439). Both authors were important for their digestion of geographical theory. Martianus’s way of handling geographical information may have started a new tradition of the teaching of geography in schools as part of the liberal arts, particularly geometry.220 Another highly prominent and much copied scholar who was used in schools was Isidore of Seville (c. 560-636). He incorporated classical knowledge into a Christian ideology in his collecting of encyclopaedic knowledge. Of his many works, the biblical commentaries and De Natura Return (or U ber Rotatum) (between 612 and 615) were extraordinarily popular, and his Etymologiarum sive Originum libri XX (or Origanum sive Etymologiarum; Etymologies; c. 622-633), an encyclopaedic source-book of definitions, enjoyed similar success, surviving in about one thousand manuscripts. Isidore’s importance to medieval geography lay in the creation of order he named places and established spatial identity by referring to contiguous areas. Isidore’s works were enthusiastically re­ ceived in northern Europe because they presented a synthesis of Latin literature in a form that was easily accessible to the new clergy in king­ doms that had recently opened up to Latin learning, such as England. Isidore had nothing new or contemporary to say about the North, and he did not know the historians of the gentes, who described northern home­ lands.221 Schematic maps Before discussing Orosius and the textual sources of the North, I will examine cartographic material on the North. It is worth giving some attention to Spanish cartographic developments, in order to gain a fuller understanding of contemporary spatial conceptions of the world. In this, Isidore is a central figure, due to the influence of his works. Manuscripts of Isidore’s works use diagrams, or rotae, as aids to explain natural phenomena. One of these diagrams is already found in early manu­ scripts of De Natura Return and the Etymologies. This diagram, the rota 220 Lozovsky 1996: 31. For Martianus’s views on geography and his use in schools, see Lozovsky 2000: 23-26. 221 Weissensteiner 1994: 124; Gorman 2001: 535-538; Brown 2003: 367-368; Hiatt 2005: 54-61.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 89

terrarum,, or the so-called T-O map, is a representation of the inhabited world (see figure 1, p. 90). The earliest T-O map is in a seventh century manuscript of De Natura Kerum, from which it probably passed on to the Btymologies. This cartographic innovation became a standard ideogram of the world in hundreds of manuscript versions for centuries.222 The T-O map has an O-shaped outline created by the ocean surround­ ing the continents of Asia, Africa, and Europe. The land masses are divided by a T, or a sign resembling a cross. The bars of the T represent the three main waterways: the Nile, the River Don, and the Mediterra­ nean. Thus, the initials of orbis terrarum (o and t) are represented in the design.223 The map represents only three continents, not the whole globe.

222 For T-O maps, including different classification schema, see Destombes 1964: 28-34, 54-64; Woodward 1987: 295-304; see also Arnaud 1990; Stevens 1995c; Edson 1997: 40-50. Whether the T-O map accompanied De Natura Rerum from the beginning is debated. Gorman (2001: 530 n. 5, 538) argues for a later 7th- or 8th-century insertion, Stevens (1979: 44) suggests a new final chapter with a map, and Williams (1997: 13), in an excellent study, argues for the map being part of the text from the beginning. 223 It is sometimes assumed that the T symbolizes a Christian cross (e.g. Lanman 1981; cf. Williams 1997: 13 and n. 22). Kupfer (1994) makes this case for the Carolingian period. This may be the case in versions such as the T-O map in the well-known computus manuscript of Oxford, St. John’s College 17, fol. 6r, dated 1090-1110 (hereafter, St.John’s College 17) (cf. Edson 1997: 86-92), and is clearly so in the Psalter list map, London, BL Additional 28681, fol. 9v (c. 1260, here­ after, Additional 28681), where a figure of Christ embraces the Earth. There is some support for the suggestion of a cross in T-O maps in 9th-century manu­ scripts and more clearly in other scientific diagrams (cf. Kühnei 2003: 139-159), as well as examples of 'Christianized’ T-O maps of the same period (Delano-Smith and Kain 1999: 38-39, fig. 2.25). For a T-O map with a small cross marking Jerusalem, see Miller 1895: 118. The association between a scientific diagram and the cross could not have been accidental and the symbolic link became bolder and more formal. However, the association has not been fully examined, and claims of early cross symbolism must be deemed tentative.

90 The North in the Old English Orosius

Figure 1. T-O map. Some diagrammatic versions include a fourth continent or a fourth waterway (the Sea of Azov), or a number of other features or legends (i.e. inscriptions on a map), but the intention of these was not to reflect real geographical circumstances or describe the uninhabited Earth; instead they functioned as a kind of a shorthand to indicate that the Earth was the centre of the cosmos.224 The T-O idiogram may have been based on late antique school manuals or other sources, but an earlier origin is more likely. The T-O map may originate from an Early Greek conception of the cosmos as divided into four parts, but the Earth rotae may go back to North Africa and ancient Egypt.225 Later world maps, or mappae mundi, which were more detailed, elaborated, and larger were also based on the T-O design, and the simple T-O was still in use even in early printed books. The North in maps Cartographic material containing representations of the North has been recently catalogued by Leonid Chekin (2006, orig. 1999). He lists one hundred and ninety-eight maps of different types which have legends that can be identified with regions, places, peoples, or topographical features in the northernmost regions, i.e. Scythia and northern islands that can be related to present-day Scandinavia, Eastern Europe, and Russia (Eurasia). The maps are dated to between the eighth and thirteenth centuries.

224 Edson 1997: 95. 225 For late Antique, see Destombes 1964: 74. For Greek origins, see Stevens 1995c. Miller (1895: 116) suggests that the T form goes back to the 4th-century B.C. Ionian philosophers (cf. Arentzen 1984: 321). For Africa, see Dilke 1985: 173, and for Egypt, see Edson 1997: 46.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 91

Using this catalogue as a source (but not assuming it to be absolutely comprehensive), I will make some general observations about the repre­ sentations of the North. I shall leave out legends which are thought to refer to Eastern Europe or Eurasia and mythical or orientational names in the northernmost parts of cartographic Europe, such as Thule, Scythia, Cynocephali (‘Dog-Heads’), Hyperboreans, Amazons, the northern ocean, the northern wind (Boreas), and the direction north. Since the relevant maps date from a later period than the terminus ante quem of this survey, the source criticism and contexts will not be discussed. However, it needs to be pointed out that virtually all map-makers are anonymous, and many legends and features in them have been transmitted from much earlier textual or cartographic sources which may date as far back as Roman times, and which often cannot be identified with certainty. Chekin concludes that the legends for the northernmost regions feature prominently in maps. The majority of the material, however, is mythical or ambiguous or refers to places, lands, or peoples that can be related to areas outside Denmark, the Scandinavian Peninsula, and Iceland. The legends which can be interpreted as relating to the North make up c. 6 % of the total number of legends in Chekin’s catalogue.226 Such legends (with their variant forms and meanings) are: Bjarmar Dacia (Denmark), Dacia. Suevia (Denmark. Sweden), Dani, Danmorc, Gautland\ Goetelba (Göta River), Island (Iceland), Medusa (ON Meöalhús, a location in Norway), Northmanni (Scandinavians), Norwegia Scandia, Scridefinnas Sinus germanicus (a peninsula near Norway), Su[eones] (Svear?), Suescia (Sweden), Suevi (Svear), Suithia. Dada (Sweden. Denmark?), Suipiod (Sweden), and S monia Interior] (an area in Sweden?).227 These legends occur in seventeen maps, all of which date from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, except for the Anglo-Saxon mappa mundi and the Osma Beatus, which have been dated to the eleventh century. The Osma Beatus will be discussed in this chapter, and the Anglo-Saxon mappa mundi in the following chapter, at which point some of the above legends will be examined. The Vatican world map from the eighth century (prob­ able date 762-777) is not among the seventeen maps, although it depicts

;

,

,

226 See entries in ‘Glossary. 1. Scythian Onomasticon’, Chekin 2006: 207-253. Territories and peoples are counted as separate entries. Some names in the Gloss­ ary are names of classical or early medieval authors. For a more compact cata­ logue until 1440, see Brincken 1992: 149-157,167-171. 227 The legends also include the northern islands of Æbatia and Done which derive from Pliny (4.95, Baida and Oeonae); cf. Chekin 2006: 209, 223.

92 The North in the Old English Orosius

islands in the northern ocean. Chekin convincingly refutes the suggestion that one of the islands, a large forked one, would indicate the Scandi­ navian Peninsula and the Baltic Sea. It most likely denotes Britain and Ireland.228 The Vatican map has no inscriptions referring to the North. The seventeen maps are primarily world maps of the mappa mundi type. Some, however, are of the T-O type, such as the Lund map from the twelfth century, which mentions Suithia and Dada, probably in the meaning Sweden and Denmark. Another example of the T-O type is an Icelandic map from c. 1250. This inventory-type map has original carto­ graphic legends referring to northern Europe, e.g. Bjarmar, Island Norvegie Gautland, Suipiod,' and Danmorc, A third map originated in Saint-Omer and is dated to the end of the eleventh or beginning of the twelfth century. It shows a particular interest in the northernmost edge of Europe, depicting four islands—Anglia (Britain), Hibernia (Ireland), Tyle (Thule), and [Scan\dt(a. Below the map, the map-maker comments on each legend. The comment on [Scan\d%a explains that the island has continuous daylight for forty days in the summer and no daylight in the winter.229 In addition to Chekin’s list, there is an early-thirteenth-century (122030) English T-O world map (bipartite, without the Mediterranean) which depicts an interest in the outer regions of the world. It names Norwagia Norwegia and Da[da? in the western hemisphere. The map has no paral­ lels, but shares a similar emphasis on the northern islands with the SaintOmer map. It has been interpreted as a didactic map for contemplation of missionary aims 230 The representation of expansionist ideas in a map of this period can be related to the crusades 231 One of the most interesting features of the cartographic North is Scandia. Scandia and its variant forms are found on nine maps. The legend refers either to the Scandinavian Peninsula or to the concept of an island in the North. Only two maps depict a Scandia, island: one is the above mentioned Saint-Omer map, and the other is the Osma Beatus, to which I

,

(

?)

,

]

228 Vatican City, Biblioteca apostolica vaticana, lat. 6018, fols. 63v-64; Glorie 1965c; Williams 1994: 53; Chekin 2006: 127. 229 Beilin, Staatsbibliothek zu Bedin-Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Theol. Lat. Fol. 149, fol. 27 (the Lund map); Reykjavik, Stofnun Arna Magnússonar GKS 18124°, fols. 5v-6r (hereafter, GKS 1812-4°); Saint-Omer, Bibliothéque municipale 97, fol. 1, where the depiction of [Scati[d%aisland is partly destroyed; Chekin 2006: 5152, 69-70. 230 Cambridge, Fitzwilliam 254, fol. lv; Duzer and Dines 2006. 231 Hiatt 2005: 61.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 93

will return.23223Both islands are drawn schematically without indicating a specific shape for the island. On three world maps in late-thirteenthcentury copies of Lambert of Saint-Omer’s U ber Floridus (c. 1125), Scandia is inscribed on the European continent between the legends Gothia and Dada A map of Europe in the original manuscript, which is signed by Lambert, has Scandia and Norvuegia on the same peninsula, possibly synonymous.234 A large world map called the Ebstorf mappa mundi (c. 1284) had the area of Scandinavia tom off before its destruction, but it is known that it depicted northern legends and features, such as Goetelba (River Göta), the islands of Yslandia and Scandinavia, and a peninsula called Norv]egia.235 The Hereford mappa mundi (c. 1300) includes the legend Gansmir, while Gansmir occurs in the Sawley world map (previously known as the Henry of Mainz map, late twelfth or early thirteenth century). The inscriptions denote a peninsula and an island respectively, and are often thought to be a corrupted or a variant form of Scandia. This is not the only possible interpretation, however; for instance, Chekin thinks that Gansmir and Gansmir could be related to the name of the Khazars (Ga^ari) and the perception of their proximity to the northern coast of Europe, as repre­ sented in thirteenth-century maps.236 In sum, seventeen world maps include a cartographic North, and it is represented as a peninsula, a named island, and as legends or topographic­ al images transmitted from Roman geography (Scandt(a or an island) or contemporary experience (Norwegia, Iceland, or a peninsula).

233

I

The Osma Beatus The Osma Beatus represents a cartographic tradition which was develop­ ed in Spain. A group of maps accompanied copies of the Apocalypse Commentary (in the Prologue to Book II), by Beatus of Liébana (d. 798), originally compiled c. 776.237 These remarkable mappae mundi are just a few 232 Chekin 2006: 188-189, 243. 233 Wolfenbüttel, Herzog August Bibliothek, Gud. lat. 1, fols. 69v-70; Pans, Bibliothéque nationale, lat. 8865, fol. 62v; Leiden, Bibliotheek der Rijksuniversiteit, Voss. lat. F.31, fols. 175v-176; Chekin 2006: 188-189. 234 Gent, Bibliotheek der Rijksuniversiteit 92, fol. 241; Chekin 2006: 191-193. 235 For the Ebstorf map, see Chekin 2006: 146-161. 236 Miller (1895: 24) compares Gansmir with Canyia and Scania. Cf. Chekin 1993: 504-507. 237 All illustrations with commentary are in Williams 1994-2003.

94 The North in the Old English Orosius

of the approximately two thousand illustrations in the surviving twenty-six manuscripts or fragments of the work, which date from the eighth to the thirteenth century. Their style is unique and although it varies according to where, when, and by whom each of the manuscripts was produced, the content and overall design is similar. Since some versions of the Commentary lack a map, there are only fifteen extant Beatus maps, and one of them is missing. The text itself does not include specific geographical information.238239 The North Sea, the Baltic, or Scandinavia do not feature in a geograph­ ically identifiable way in the Beatus maps. The land masses of the contin­ ents are surrounded by an ocean. The coasdine is undulating or straight, and schematic islands, fish and sometimes boats are depicted in the sea. One or two islands are placed in the northern section of the world sea, east of Ireland and Britain. The island of Thule is marked on most Beatus maps. It is often next to insula Hibernia insula Brittannia, or an unnamed island. The Osma Beatus map (dated 1086) is considered to be closest to the archetype, and depicts an island which is placed west of Thule in the northern section of the ocean, and which has the inscription Scada insu la.239 The source of Scada insula in the Osma map, or its exemplar, is unknown.240 Williams credits the illustrator with inventiveness, and thinks this map was a reinvention of the map tradition.241 Beatus maps belong to an Isidorian textual context, as does the eighthcentury Vatican mappa mundi, which closely resembles them. Isidore’s Etymologies probably stands behind the original Beatus map, which was ultimately derived from a late Roman prototype, with additions from Orosius’s geography. The Osma map, exceptionally, accompanied an Isidorian text describing the evangelization of the world, which Beatus had appropriated, but Scandiai Scandia, and Scadinavia are not known from Isidore’s texts.

.,

,

238 Cf. Arentzen 1984: 55. 239 Burgo de Osma, Archivo de la Cathedral 1, fols. 34v-35; Williams 2002:17, 20, plate 5. 240 There are 1l^-century Norman textual sources for Scania, the Norman histor­ ians Dudo Sancti Quintini and Willelmus Gemmeticensis, in the context of the origin of the Vikings and Rollo’s campaigns (Chekin 1993: 491). However, it is possible that Scada in the Osma Beatus originates from an earlier source. 241 Williams 1994: 51; Williams 2002: 31, plate 239a-b.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 95

Beatus maps show the fourth continent, the Antipodes, in the south. Williams points out that this zone, described by Isidore, gained more em­ phasis in the later Beatus maps, when monstrous races were placed there (cf. the Osma map). In my opinion, since the Osma compiler was creative and emphasized the southern antipodal section, he may also have added a new feature to the northern section for reasons of symmetry, such as Scada next to Thule. It is, of course, possible that Scada existed in the exemplar of Osma Beatus and originates from an earlier period. At any rate, it appears to have been adapted into cartography from a narrative Source in the eleventh century at the latest This innovation in the Beatus tradition indicates that Scandia was a meaningful concept in early medieval theoretical geography and applicable in cartography. A similar tendency to balance the north and south can also be found in the Vatican map of the world. Paulus Orosius Paulus Orosius (bom c. 380, known until 418) was one of the most influential early medieval authors. Of Orosius’s three known works, [Mstoriarum libri septem adversus paganos (Seven Books o f History against the Pagans), finished c. 417/418, became the most popular.242 Although History does not describe the North, its geography became the basis of much of medieval geographical literature and cartography, and will be briefly dis­ cussed here. A Roman citizen and a native of the Iberian Peninsula, Orosius lived in Hippo, North Africa, where he met his mentor S t Augustine.243 His History may have been meant primarily for a North African audience. The work uses a polemic style to narrate the history of the world from its creation until the fall of Rome in 416. Orosius shows how there were more misery and warfare in the past than in his own time and during the Roman Empire. In his view, Rome was the universal power that was preparing the whole world for a universal Christian religion. Defending this inevitability, Orosius wrote History in answer to those pagans who claimed that Rome had become weak because of Christianity. He wanted to show that the Christian era was stable, peaceful, united, and to spread Christianity all over the world, guided by God’s Grand Design. The Christian agenda was inspired and heavily influenced by Augustine’s ideol­ 242 Ed. and French trans. Arnaud-Lindet 1990; trans. Deferrari 1981. 243 Amaud-Iindet 1990: ix-xx; Lippold 1995. Suggestions for Orosius’s place of origin vary in the literature from (northern) Portugal to Spain.

96 The North in the Old English Orosius

ogy, and the work was originally meant as an addendum to Augustine’s De ávitate dei.244 The historical section is preceded by a geographical chapter, which was an innovation (and perhaps even a challenge), in the sense that it was a universal geographical description in Latin. It covers the three known continents, Asia, Europe and Africa, and describes their regions, prov­ inces, and inhabitants. It is not, however, a full description of all the places which occur in the historical section. Orosian geography is descriptive and symbolic, and derives from earlier Roman geographical writing, e.g. Pomponius Mela, and lost sources, such as Agrippa’s map.245 It is sometimes thought that Orosius’s description of northernmost Europe, which includes the British Isles, did not modify the traditional knowledge of this region.246 However, Orosius deviated from established patterns to such an extent that he must have made a deliberate attempt at revision. In addition to following classical outlines, Orosius incorporated a few poignant innovations into his description of lands beyond the Roman frontiers (relating to the Nile, the Caucasus, the islands of Britain, Ireland, Mevania (i.e. the Isle of Man), Thule, and the Orkneys), which have impli­ cations of universality and are derived from earlier sources. Orosius’s con­ struction of geography in the service of his vision of a boundless Christian empire probably made the work appealing among the literate in the Middle Ages 247 Orosius placed Thule in the middle of the ocean in a north-westerly direction, beyond the Orkneys. He remarks that Thule is known to only a few, which may be a reference to the controversy that Thule caused in Antiquity.248 Orosius made an ideological and conscious decision to include Thule, but he did not elaborate on it or mention his source. For

244 Merrills (2005: 37-39) discusses the relationship between Orosius and Augustine. Augustine valued information about lands and the natural world (Lozovsky 1996: 33). 245 For Orosius’s geography, see Janvier 1982 (with helpful reconstructed maps); Lozovsky 2000: 26-27, 69-78; Merrills 2005: 35-99. 246 Edson 1997: 34; Gautier Dalché 2001: 2. 247 Orosius 1.2, 28-33, 36-47, 75-82. For Orosius’s changes and innovations, see Janvier 1982: 206-270; Merrills 2005: 79-99. 248 Orosius 1.2.79. For Thule in Orosius’s History, see Merrills 2005: 95-97; cf. Janvier 1982: 152,181-182.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 97

( )rosius, the northern limit of Europe was the Rhipaen Mountains and the Sarmatian (or northern) Ocean.249 In eastern Europe, barbarians lived north of the Danube. In this area Orosius mentions lands which, in fact, constitute the northernmost part of Europe known to him. First there is Alania in the east, then there is Dacia in the centre, which is also the location of Gothia, and finally there is Germania, the largest part of which is occupied by the Suebi. A total of fifty-four gentes lived in this region.250 Orosius’s description of eastern Europe vaguely implies that the divisions extended to the northern ocean. I,eake points out that the divisions were consequendy “taken as applicable lo the true North by almost every medieval geographer”, which led to confusions between the names for the Goths, the Dacians, and the Danes and their lands.251 Dacia was a Roman province east of Pannonia by the Danube and the Vistula River was considered to be its western border in ancient sources, such as Pliny’s NH, although this is geographically untrue.252 The most significant innovation of Orosius’s geography was the idea that geography allowed the reader to understand historical events and their chronological sequence. Looking at the world and contemplating it created the proper meditative background for pondering over the events that took place in it.253 The geography was not mere background information for the historical section, however, but had a more meaning­ ful message of Christian expansionism. Orosius’s geographical introduc­ tion was meant to be connected to the universal history Orosius was writ­ ing. The role of divine providence in history comes across in Orosius’s unique attempt to show how the succession of four empires in different regions of the world (Babylon and Assyria in the east, Macedonia in the north, Carthage in the south, and Rome in the west) had come to nothing, and how the fifth empire, i.e. the Christian Roman Empire, would be a true universal power. The destruction that empires such as Babylon had faced was far greater than that which Rome had experienced at the hands of Christian Goths. The work was intended as a consideration of the world as a whole, and the geographical introduction was supposed to 249 Orosius 1.2.4, 52. 250 Orosius 1.2.53-54. For the reliance of this passage on old Roman perceptions, see Janvier 1982: 116, 229-230, 240-241. 251 Leake 1967: 71. 252 Linderski 1964: 435-436. 253 Lozovsky 2000: 73.

98 The North in the Old English Orosius

show the width of the Christian world. Orosius’s message was one of universality and peace through Christian faith.254 Orosius’s History may have had a secondary theme about the Goths and the Romans which has implications of peace between the two in order to show the universality of Roman rule. Orosius seems to belitde the contemporary conception of the sack of Rome by the Goths and to emphasize peace, a trouble-free world, and harmony between the Goths and the Romans. This would mean that he saw the Goths as a further stage in God’s Grand Design for the redemption of mankind; they were one more step on the way to a universal Christianity. This perception of the Goths was enhanced by Orosius’s innovative identification of them with the Getae of ancient literature, a suggestion which gave the Goths a historical background. The geography at the beginning of the work was in service of this historical perception. It was a rhetorical device following rhetorical tradition, which at that time was beginning to use introductions to convey initial information.255 Orosius’ History became one of the most popular history books to be copied in the Middle Ages in the Latin-speaking W est256 Later writers drew on Orosius’s worldview and changed it to meet their ends. The geography was adapted many times as historians modified Orosius’s messages of universality and conversion. In Britain, this took place almost half a millennium later. Orosius’s History was known in the British Isles from an early date. It was used in both Ireland and England from the seventh century onwards, e.g. by Theodore and Hadrian, Bede, and Asser. There are a number of manuscripts of Anglo-Saxon origin which contain copies of Orosius’s History or excerpts of it.257 As with Isidore’s Etymol­

254 Merrills 2005: 50-64, 98; cf. Arnaud-Lindet 1990: lxvi (a diagram); Hiatt 2005: 53. Brinken (1983: 393) notes how Orosius’ continents create a T structure. It has been argued that the quadripartite historical structure of the kingdoms, ordered according to the cardinal directions, is intended to represent a cross symbolising the development of the 5th, Christian empire (Fabbrini, F. 1979: Paulo Orosio: uno storico. Rome, pp. 364-365, as cited by Akbari 2005: 108, 122). Miller (1895: 60) suggests that Orosius invented the spherical T-O map, but Janvier (1982: 60-67) disagrees and concludes that Orosius did not compile any maps. 255 Lozovsky 2000:13; Merrills 2005: 61-64, 68. 256 For the manuscript tradition, see Arnaud-Lindet 1990: lxvii-xc. 257 Gneuss, no. 32, 196.5, 259.5 (s. x1), 281.3, 555, 759, 820 (s. viii2), these are dated xi-xii, unless otherwise marked; Lapidge 2006: 323; for Ireland, see Herren 1999: 50.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 99

ogies, Orosius5 History was one of the works which was frequently used in the compilation of medieval glossae collectae. These glossaries in turn provided the basic material for other glossaries, also compiled in AngloSaxon England258 Orosius and maps It is commonly assumed that Orosius did not use a map or provide one for the reader, although there are suggestions to the contrary.259 There is no conclusive proof of either view on this point. The fact that Orosius does not refer to a map and that the c. 250 extant manuscripts of History have only four schematic T-O or other world maps cannot prove that Orosius did not have access to cartographic material. The extant maps date from the eighth, ninth, thirteenth, and fifteenth centuries.260 One of the four maps is an unusual square T map, found in a manu­ script of Orosius’s History dating from the ninth century (before 883) 261 Another is the so-called Albi map from the eighth or beginning of the ninth century. It is drawn with a very rounded rectangular shape. It is the oldest extant world map which has specific legends and topographical details on it, and was created probably in Spain or the Pyrenees.262 The Albi manuscript contains Orosius’s geographical chapter and texts by Julius Honorius and Isidore. The Albi map must have been drawn spe­ cifically for the compilation, since almost all its legends are to be found in the three texts. This map has only a few inscriptions in the northern part of Europe. The island of jBritannia is in the far west, opposite the Rhine. Europe is divided into provinces (i.e. outlined sections). No province in the northern half of Europe is named, unless Götia and the province of the barbari next to the Cimmerian and Caspian Seas can be considered part of Europe. 258 Lendinara 1999: 10,15-16,49-50. 259 Woodward 1987: 301; Edson 1997: 31. However, Janvier (1982: 165-169, 226, 253-254), Bately (1972: 45-46, 60), and Williams (1997: 17) suggest the use of a map. Baumgarten (1984: 194-202) proposes the use of a Ptolemaic text, which Merrills (2005: 90) refutes. 260 paris, Bibliothéque nationale, lat. 17543 (s. xiii); Tours, Bibliothéque municipale 973 (s. xv). The other two are the St. Gallen and Albi maps, see foot­ notes below. 261 St. Gallen, Stiftsbibliothek 621, p. 35, Stiftsbibliothek St. Gallen/Codices Electronici Sangallenses-Virtual Library. 262 Albi, Rochegude 29, fol. 57v; Miller 1895: 58-59; Glorie 1965b.

100 The North in the Old English Orosius

As an early map, the Albi map features in the discussion of the development of world maps and the role of Orosian geography in medieval cartographic knowledge.263 Woodward classifies early medieval maps into ‘Orosian’ (six maps, including the Anglo-Saxon mappa mundi) and Tsidorian’ 264 The division is criticized by Edson, who asks what an Orosian map really is, “since few co-exist with the text and those that do are not at all congruent with it”. Edson states that due to Orosius’s immense popularity in the Middle Ages, almost any map after the fifth century could be Orosian, and thus ultimately based on Roman trad­ itions.265 However, there is no doubt that Orosius had an enormous influ­ ence on medieval geography and cartography by stabilizing geographical conceptions across the Roman Empire in Late Antiquity. The Orosian tradition is a complicated subject and, as Woodward suggested already in 1987, it requires a new independent study.266 Cassiodorus and Jordanes Over a century after Orosius’s geographical narrative, homelands for some of the new emerging peoples of post-Roman Western Europe were placed in the North by commentators. The history of the Goths is the most debated origin story of all thz gentes. The value of geography was known to both of the two authors who wrote about the Gothic past. The retired Roman consul and distinguished statesman Cassiodorus Senator (c. 490-583), from southern Italy, implicit­ ly discusses the usefulness of geographical knowledge in the education of monks in his Institutiones, and refers to various above-mentioned authors and texts, e.g. Ptolemy and Orosius.267 In another work, the lost Historia

263 Arentzen (1984: 49) suggests that the Albi map was adapted and reduced from

an earlier Roman map for the compilation, and particularly for Orosius’s text. However, Edson (1997: 32) thinks that it departs from Orosius in several sig­ nificant respects. Because the Albi map is not a schematic T-O type, it is possible than it is a Christianized derivation of a Roman map design which is older that the T-O concept (Arnaud 1990: 37). 264 Woodward 1987: 295-304. Other maps in Woodward’s category are the Albi map, two Matthew Paris maps c. 1250, the Sawley world map, and the Hereford mappa mundi from around the 1280s. The Hereford map has an inscription which mentions Orosius’s description of the world (see Westrem 2001: xxxii, 7). 265 Edson 1997: 32-35. 266 Woodward 1987: 301. 267 Lozovksy 2000:18.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 101

Gothorum, written c. 526-533, Cassiodorus may have created an origin myth for the Goths. There was hardly any information about the Goths or their history in Graeco-Roman literature until some reliable information emerges in the middle of the third century A.D.268 Nonetheless, as the new rulers of Rome and Cassiodorus’s employers, the Goths needed to be brought from the unknown into the known world through the authority of the written word. If Cassiodorus created the origin story, it was adopted by Jordanes, a Byzantine monk in Constantinople (precise dates are unknown, perhaps d. 554), in his De origine actibusque Getarum {On the Descent and Exploits o f the Getae) or the Getica. Alternatively, Jordanes may have created the story from various sources. It was written from an East Roman perspective in 551, which was the time of the downfall of the Ostrogothic kingdom (490-554).269 In this context, Jordanes wrote of a genealogical alliance be­ tween the Gothic and Roman lines, i.e. two groups creating a dynasty and securing power and the kingdom. This imperial history was written within a Christian scheme of universal history.270 The Getica has been called “a hornet’s nest of unresolved controversy” because of its use of sources, its historical (unreliability, and its religious or political motives.271 Jordanes mentions Cassiodorus’s lost work and also refers to other Latin or Greek sources, such as Mela and Ptolemy.272 It is generally assumed that the story of the Goths’ origin on the island of Scandia is based on Jordanes’s own interpretation of Cassiodorus and other sources but it is still debated by scholars how much of the Getica is directly based on Cassiodorus and how much is Jordanes’s original work modified from his sources, which, according to Jordanes himself, included oral sources.273 It is notable that the idea of origin of the Goths in Scandia has not survived in any other text. 268 Christensen 2002: 52. 269 Ed. Mommsen 1882; trans. Mierow 1960. For a dating to the period 552-554, see Goffart 1988: 106-107. 270 Goffart 1988: 55. 271 Goffart 1988: 15. 272Jord. 1.1-4. 273 For the relationship between Cassiodorus and Jordanes and the question of authorship, see Wolfram 1988: 3-4, passim; Goffart 1988: 21-47, 58-62, 101-111; Wolfram 2004; Goffart 2006: 59-71; Christensen 2002: 115-123; Merrills 2005: 101-114, 127-169, and bibliographies therein. For oral sources, see Jord. 3.16; 28. Jordanes (5.38) writes that he believed in what he had read about the origin,

102 The North in the Old English Orosius

Minere is a theoretical divide between those scholars who do not find Jordanes reliable and those who represent the so-called ‘ethnogenesis’ school, which postulates that Jordanes and other historians of the gentes are describing a historical emergence of new peoples. The ethnic identity of these peoples would not have derived from genetic descent or language but from appeals to divine origin and military success by warrior leaders from generation to generation moving from place to place. In this ethnic process (ethnogenesis), followers would have joined together around myths of a common origin, i.e. nuclei of traditions, but they could have also dissolved at any time.*274 In the ongoing debate about how the classical world changed into the late antique and early medieval ones, scholars are attempting to determine whether Jordanes’s story corresponds to historical reality, which would imply an oral tradition that had been preserved for two thousand years. Some scholars think that Jordanes presents a disorderly account based on oral tales, although a purely literary reading is not adequate either. Accord­ ing to this view, Jordanes (or Cassiodorus) may have incorporated oral material because a section of his audience expected it.275 A group that left Scandinavia could eventually have contributed to Gothic traditions, or even if origin in Scandia was fictional, it may have been kept alive in Gothic oral memory.276 Heather suggests that there was an oral tradition concerning the origin of the Goths which, however, did not mention Scandia and was perhaps transmitted by King Rodulf (a king from Scandia, mentioned by Jordanes). According to this theory, these stories were later combined with literary motifs by Cassiodorus. Classical geography would have provided the Gothic historians with evidence that a Scandinavian island was the home of the Goths.277 Other scholars, most notably Goffart, argue for a Gothic history with a more literary nature, that the Scandinavian origin is fictitious, and that the Goths had nothing to do with Scandia. Cassiodorus and/or Jordanes took their geographical co-ordinates and ethnic labels from GraecoRoman literature and used names for other peoples to produce a Gothic rather than what he had heard. 274 Wenskus 1977; Wolfram 1988. 275 Pohl 2002: 227-229. For a discussion of sources and scholarship on the Goths, a theory of a common religious cult of ‘Gothic peoples’, and arguments for a Scandinavian/southern Baltic origin, see Nordgren 2000. 276 Wolfram 1988: 36-40. 277 Heather 1998: 27-30.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 103

history.278 Jordanes’s Gothic origin story is often seen as a template for histories of other gentes, e.g. by Paul the Deacon and Bede, but despite some similarities there would not have existed a special genre of origins of non-classical gentes. Goffart argues that the idea of barbarians originating from homes on the edges of the known world dates from the sixthcentury Byzantine world, suitably to mark the end of the Western Roman Empire in 476.279 Some archaeologists argue for the northern origins of the Goths. For instance, Kaliff thinks that a Scandinavian background could be the reason for similarities in Bronze Age and Early Iron Age material from eastern Sweden and northern Poland. Contacts would have developed into ethnic unity over the centuries, and the oral memories of these contacts would have created a background for Jordanes’s origin story.280 Hedeager thinks that the Scandinavian origin was probably authentic in this and other Germanic origin stories (Lombards, Anglo-Saxons, possibly Heruls, Vandals, and Burgundians). Hedeager sees the migration from Scandia as a literary motif which may have a historical core supported by archaeological and philological evidence. She states that the origin story could not have been invented by Cassiodorus or Jordanes because it would have been worthless as a legitimizing feature reflecting an ancient tribal consciousness.281 According to philologists, the group-names Sw. Gutar (inhabitants of the island of Gotland), Götar (in Götaland), ON Gautar.; OE Geatas, and the Greek and possible Latin names for Goths (‘nomadic, wandering’, and is a literary image influenced by clas­ sical verse. This is an attractive theory particularly since * Vagus is the only toponym in the description of Scandia. 291 For the wolves, see Wagner 1974. 292 Cf. Pliny’s (4.96) reference to the islands of Oeonae off the Scythian coast, where people live off food such as birds’ eggs.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 107

The ensuing list of about thirty group-names includes, e.g. Finni and Uinouiloth (Vinovilobth). The former are peaceful and gender than the other peoples, and the latter are similar to the Finni.293 The Dani are of the same origin as the Suetidi,, and the tow groups are the tallest people in Scandia. One of the groups, the Ranii, once had a king called Rodulf, who fled to the court of the Ostrogothic king Theodoric the Great (reigned 493-526) in Ravenna. Without any explanation or introduction, Jordanes then claims that the Goths migrated from Scandia, a womb of nations, in three boats, under the leadership of King Berig. They landed in a region which they called Gotbiscand^a. From there, the Goths continued their migration, which eventually took them to Scythia, which Jordanes describes exten­ sively.294 In reconstructions, these groups are placed in the coastal regions of (mainly southern) Scandinavia.295 For instance, A dogit is thought to be a corruption of *Alogit, the inhabitants of the later medieval province of Halogaland, the Háleygir.296 Arochi, has been emended to *(h)arothi, and linked with ON Honðaland, ‘Hordaland’, in the Hardanger Fjord. Bergio may refer to the inhabitants of the Bjäre Peninsula in south-west Scania 297 Finnaithae could refer to Finnveden in south-west Smaland (OSw. Finnadhe, runic Finnaiþi).298 The Hallin have been connected with the in­ habitants of Halland, but this and the other identifications are uncertain.299 Uinouiloth has been emended, e.g. to *cainothioth or *quinovilos, and is thought to be a corrupted reference to the same people who were called Cmnas in Ohthere’s account and Kvenir in ON sources.300 This interpret­ 293 There are various views on whether mitiores should be emended to *miniores, which would change the characterization of Finni from ‘gender’ to ‘smaller’ than other groups. See Pekkanen (1984a: 127-128), who supports the emendation on stylistic and other grounds. 294 Jord. 27-39. For Jordanes’s geographical construction of Scythia, with its Orosian influences and tripartite setdement structure, see Merrills 2005: 155-162. 295 For interpretations, see Svensson 1918; Svennung 1967; Christensen 2002: 263-304. 296 Andersson (1999a) disagrees with this identification. 297 Andersson (2005: 592) agrees with Bjäre. 298 Cf. Neumann 1995. 299 Callmer (1991: 260) thinks the identification is certain. However, there is no certainty about the name. 300 Svennung 1967: 92-97. Pekkanen (1984a: 129-134) suggests *vinovilot would mean those who have skewed wedges, deriving from Fi. »«o, ‘skewed, slanting’, and mloy pi. vilot, ‘a wooden wedge’. This tribal name would have been analogous

108 The North in the Old English Orosius

ation is unreliable, however, and there is no satisfactory explanation for Uinouiloth. Screrefennae and Finni both probably refer to the Sami or their ancestors or any other people in northern Fennoscandia, but for the author, the names may simply have designated the most barbaric and northernmost peoples. Screrefennae most likely denotes £the Sliding Finni*, 'Finni on skis’, or 'the hunters on skis’ (cf. ON skriða á s kipuni) 301 Some names, such as Suehans (probably Svear) and Dani (Danes), are less complicated to interpret. The first mention of the Dani in the surviving literature is in the Getica. The Danes had emerged as a distinct people somewhat earlier, at some point between A.D. 250 and 450, and spread from Judand throughout southern Scandinavia.302 It is uncertain what geographical reference these names have. Suggest­ ed connections to later regional names do not necessarily explain where the groups might have lived in the time of Jordanes or his sources. For instance, it is difficult to correlate the group-names with territorial units (e.g. administrative, geographical, or military units in later sources), social units, setdement patterns derived from place-names, or archaeological finds which create meaningful patterns of distribution. It is also problem­ atic to compare these evidence categories with each other. However, Callmer thinks that there is a certain geographical logic and correspond­ ence in most of the names, and that they must have been understood to refer to communities which had a distinct political structure. Most units would have been small, under two hundred km2, and most of the Norwegian units and fjord communities would have been members of larger confederations. Others would have been names for groups under an over-lord or large confederations, such as the Suehans Gauthigoth[ae], Ostrqgothae Dani, and Heruli.303 Andersson thinks that the Gauthigoth[ae],

,

,

to other Baltic group-names, e.g. Vatjalaiset and Vepsäläiset. 301 Porthan 1873: 63 n. 76; Noreen 1920: 34; Wiklund 1948: 37; Collinder 1953: 26-28; Wessén 1969: 34; Pekkanen 1984a: 126. Hansen and Olsen (2004a: 409) note that a much later ON designation Skridfinner refers particularly to the Sami. For Scridefinnas and Finnas, see pp. 246-248, 375-383 in this study. 302 Weibull 1984: 9; Jorgensen 1995: 107. For the emergence of the Danish king­ dom, see also pp. 348-354 in this study. 303 Callmer 1991: 258-262. Hedeager (1995: 501) thinks the list demonstrates a geographical subdivision. Ramqvist (1991: 306-307) has tentatively located about fifteen small kingdoms of the Migration Period on the coast of Scandinavia, and suggests that some of them, particulady in Scania and Denmark, may correspond with the groups mentioned by Jordanes and Procopius. For a geographical dis-

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 109

‘Goths in the land of the Geats’, and Ostrogothae undoubtedly refer the West Geats and the East Geats (Sw. Västgötar Östgötar), and that they support a Scandinavian origin for the Goths, although they do not prove it 304 The groups listed by Jordanes were not necessarily the largest or most important ethnic entities at the time (which was closer to JordanesJs own time than the contended Gothic migration), and they should not be thought of as ancestors of later groups unless other evidence supports this. Even if they represented contemporary military or political alliances and were not geographically or linguistically based, they were still of geo­ graphical significance for the author, who manipulated his description of them to create an image of barbaric and densely-populated Scandia. The location of Scandia in the world ocean and the uncivilized lifestyles of some of its peoples were other stereotypical and symbolic messages of distance, barbarism, and the unknown.305 Regardless of his rhetoric, with the appearance of Jordanes’s Getica, knowledge of the North became more official; it was given a new significance in history as a response to a changed Europe. Scandia was now part of the textual tradition: it was promoted to an elite group of distant places from where peoples originat­ ed and became ‘a womb of nations’.306 Gothiscand^a is by some scholars interpreted as meaning the new Scandia of the Goths. It may have been a region between the Rivers Vistula and Oder, particularly immediately west of the mouth of the Vistula. The Goths have been equated with the Wielbark culture (c. 0A.D. c. 230/400) which spread from west to east of the Lower Vistula and disintegrated by the early fifth century. According to one view, a population identified as Goths may have emerged in the Vistula region as a result of local developments and international contacts, such as Scandi­ navian influences and the Roman amber trade.307 From the end of the second century onwards, the Goths moved south-east from these regions towards the northern part of the Black Sea, as had other groups before them. There, the Goths came into contact with the invading Huns in the

;

tribution of the groups in Sweden and their equivalent medieval and territorial names, see Hyenstrand 1996:134-135. m Andersson 1996: 34. Cf. Goffart 1988: 80-82, 88-89. ™ Cf. Merrills 2005: 118,169. M)1 Urbanczyk 1998.

110 The North in the Old English Orosins

late fourth century and began to move west, forming two larger groups in the fifth century (Ostrogoths and Visigoths).308 The Goths may have signified different groups at different times. The name may have been applied by the Romans to barbarian groups who otherwise had little in common.309 Sometimes, the Goths were confused with people who had no connection with them. At times, Jordanes uses Lat. Getae for the Goths instead of Gothic e.g. in the title of the Getica. This was not unusual among classical and early medieval authors. The usage began with Orosius, and Getae was employed later on by authors such as Isidore of Seville.310 Getae, ‘Getes’, was an older Greek name for a people in Dacia. The mistaken equation of these with the Goths may not have been a result of unintentional confusion, but of the ancient classification of peoples. The Getae were looked upon as some kind of founding nation of northern tribes, which was a role that was also filled by the Goths. The employment of Getae gave the Goths a legitimate history and linked them with Rome. Consequendy, the misidentification of Getae with Gothi led to Dacia being perceived as Gothia, i.e. the land of the Goths. The pairing Dacia et Gothia became a commonplace in early medieval geography, and was placed in various parts of northern continental Europe, often in or near Scythia. In other contexts, the Goths were also identified as Scythians, or as having originated from the biblical figure Magog, the son of Jap het311 Another confusion was that between the Dani, ‘Danes’, and the Dari, ‘Dacians’. As a consequence, Dacia and Dacia/Gothia were confused with the land of the Danes. Daria and Dari were used more often for Danish lands and Danes than the genuine names. Even though authors placed Daria further east than where Denmark lies, it probably still represented Danish lands.312 The consequences of this misidentification in some group- and place-names in Anglo-Saxon sources are still debated.

308 Wolfram 1988: 36-116; Green 1998:164-181; Heather 1998: 35-50. 309 Pohl 2002: 226-227. 310 Orosius 1.16.2; Isid. Ety/n. 19.23. 311 Leake 1967; Wolfram 1988: 28-29; Lund 1993: 53-62, 94; Engels 1998; Pohl 1998: 438; Christensen 2002: 48-51, 232-234. 312 Leake 1967:71-72.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 111

Procopius Procopius of Caesarea was writing at the same time as Jordanes, in the 550s, and was also a Byzantine. He was a general’s secretary and a major Greek historian of the era of the Emperor Justinian. Among other texts, Procopius wrote The Wars, which includes several books dedicated to various wars that occurred before 552.313 The work covers a geographic­ ally wide area, from Britain and Thule to Central Asia and Yemen, and it became a contemporary classic. Procopius himself travelled around the Mediterranean in order to acquire material direcdy. In The Gothic Wars books I-IV (The Wars books IV-VIII), Procopius writes about the furthest limits of the inhabited world and the migration of the Eruli, ‘Heruls’. This group was living in the middle Danube region, and, after a defeat by the Langobards, they decided to leave. According to Procopius, the Heruls traversed Slavic nations and barren land and came to the Vami. Then they passed through the nations of the Dani without suffering any violence. They came to the ocean, where they took to the sea and, in or after 512, arrived at the island of Thule, where they re­ mained, making the island their new home. Thule was mosdy barren but exceedingly large and more than ten times bigger than Britain. This makes it a gigantic island, since Britain is in an earlier reference said to be the largest of all islands beyond the Pillars of Hercules.314 Thule lay far distant from Britain towards the north. Thirteen very numerous nations had setded in the inhabited part of Thule, and each of them had a king. Later, the Heruls left Thule and lived in Italy, changing locations and alliances. At a time of crisis, some of them returned to Thule in order to search for a member of their royal family to become their new leader in Italy. The journey took much time, but finally two Herui brothers and two hundred youths came back to Italy.315 The Heruls appear in history in the third century A.D., and were placed in a far northern ocean in the fourth- and fifth-century sources.316 They became Hunnic subjects, and moved westwards to the Hungarian Plain in the mid-fifth century. Some scholars think that Procopius de­ scribes real historical events. On the basis of archaeological and runic evidence, it has been suggested that the Heruls originated in southern Sweden. Some of the political developments in southern Scandinavia and1345 113 Ed. Haury 1963-1964; trans. Dewing 1968-1979. 114 Procopius 3.1.18. 115 Procopius 6.14; 6.15.1-42; 8.25.11. 316 Neumann and Taylor 1999; Goffart 2006: 205-210.

112 The North in the Old English Orosius

the emergence of central settlements with sacral functions, e.g. Gudme on Funen, have been linked with charismatic individuals who returned and brought with them leadership experience from southern or central Europe.317 Nevertheless, Procopius does not explain where the Heruls came from when they arrived in central Europe. Furthermore, we do not know the identity of his Thule. It is obvious that he had adopted the concept of an island in the North, which he considered to be the same as Thule. Procopius attributes Thule a new geographical meaning as a homeland, in addition to its symbolic meaning as the northernmost place. Whether the Heruls originated from some part of southern Scandinavia or from central Europe, it is still significant that they are said to have travelled to the North. If they returned, this is the only recorded return migration to the North, and could show how long-distance migrants retained contacts with their lands of origin.318 If the Heruls’ journey is historical fact, they may have contributed to the material, military, and political developments in southern Scandinavia in the sixth century. If the Herui story is fictional, it may have served contemporary opinion by showing that barbarians should and could leave the Romans alone and go to the remotest part of the world.319 According to Procopius, Thule was largely uninhabited, but there were still thirteen tribes living there. If the Dani occupied the whole of Jutland at this time, the 1Vami were presumably a group in southern Jutland.320 317 Hedeager 2005: 504. For discussion and references, see Hyenstrand 1996: 3944, 119-123. Ellegard (1987: 11) thinks that the geography of the Heruls1move­ ments supports the historical reliability of the account. Noreen (1920: 40) argues for the idea of a Scandinavian origin, but Ellegard (1987) refutes it. Helgesson (2002: 166-170) supports the idea that Heruls originated in Scania but later mixed with the Danes, and that the returning migrants came to East Scania. Fabech (1994: 178, 180) discusses the grave of a woman who probably came to Funen from the Danube area, either through marriage alliance or with a returning warrior. Fabech (1991: 96) also sees some similarities between burials in southern Sweden (which involved the sacrifice of horse) and elite Hunnish burials in central Europe in the 5th century. The influences would have been transmitted to Sweden by the returning Heruls, who acted as mercenaries for the Huns. Cf. Jensen 2003: 561-562. 318 Kleinschmidt 2000: 39. 319 Goffart 1988: 95-96 (for Jordanes’s influence on Procopius’s return migration story, see pp. 94-96); cf. Merrills 2005:127. 320 Sawyer 1991a: 12.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 113

One of the biggest tribes was the Gautoi, and the most primitive was the Scrithiphinoi. The latter name may denote the Sami or anyone in the North who used skis, but what it meant for Procopius is a different matter. Procopius’s well-known description of the Scrithiphinoi portrays them as utterly barbaric, akin to beasts, in accordance with the prevailing conception of people living in the cold north.321 They have no shoes, no garments, no wine, no agriculture and the women do not work for the men. They live off hunting, wear skins and hang new-born babies in a tree while the parents go hunting. Cameron believes these ideas are errone­ ous.322 However, the seemingly fantastic image can be rationalized in its cultural context. The Greek literary conception of appropriate clothing, nutrition, subsistence, or child-care was incompatible with life suited to the natural environment in northernmost Europe. Skin clothes and the hanging of babies on a tree branch for safety are the practical adaptations of a people whose livelihood entailed such activities as hunting mammals for skins and gathering berries in forests. Cameron says of Procopius that he was “extraordinarily energetic and determined in the pursuit of interesting or useful information, but he was not a scholar”. Procopius’s ethnographic excursions are not as valuable as his own observations and collection of contemporary material. Cameron writes that there is a methodological dilemma in ethnographic descriptions when commentators try to distinguish between the original content and potentially true information and traditions that have been copied or inherited from earlier authors. Procopius was trying to emulate classical authors, particularly Herodotus, which means that some of his ethno­ graphic descriptions share similar features and ideological overtones, such as the characteristics of the climate and the people.323 With these caution­ ary comments in mind, however, it is reasonable to conclude that Pro­ copius’s account of the inhabitants of Thule reflects contacts between the Mediterranean and the North. Procopius writes that he wanted to go to Thule but never had an opportunity to travel. He had, however, met people from this island, whose accounts he had found reliable.

321 Procopius 6.15.16-23. 322 Cameron 1985: 219. For the theory of the 5th-century Byzantine historian Priscus as a source for Scrithiphinoi both in Jordanes and Procopius, see Svennung 1967: 137 n. 408. 323 Cameron 1985: 218-219, 222.

114 The North in the Old English Orosius

A recent reappreciation of Procopius as a historian emphasizes his reliability and the accuracy of his reporting.324 Procopius appears to have been a curious and creative man. The description of a large island and its many peoples and kings gives a dynamic picture of a politically organized region. If Procopius was concerned with protection against barbarians, the description of the North may have been written to show its potential threat to Rome or Emperor Justinian.325 Paul the Deacon The first source from the Carolingian period (Carolingian dynasty 751987) I wish to discuss here is by Paulus Diaconus (Paul the Deacon, c. 720-799). He was a member of a distinguished Lombard family and a learned and experienced politician. He was a contemporary of Alcuin, and wrote Historia Langobardorum (History o f the Lombards) in the mid-780s.326 He travelled from Italy to Charlemagne's court, where he stayed for some time (781-785), which is probably where he came into contact with some of the sources he uses, which include Pliny the Elder, Orosius, Jordanes, Bede, Frankish and Lombard annals, and oral traditions which he learned as a young man.327 Paul writes about the period 568-744 and the northern origin of the Lombards, who had moved from the shores of the northern ocean, or rather from the Lower Elbe, to the steppe and the Carpathians, and finally invaded Italy in 568. The work was apparendy never complet­ ed, but it was very popular in the Middle Ages. Studies of Paul's History have highlighted issues of reliability and motivation. What were Paul's sources, and were there oral traditions about a historical northern origin for the Lombards, or is this motif largely fiction? Did the audience (Lombards, Franks, or both) expect to hear such stereotypical stories of events in the distant past, and how meaningful were they in the moulding of contemporary political, religious, and ethnic 324 Kaldellis (2004) argues that Procopius was a political theorist whose works were highly sophisticated and combined historical accuracy with, e.g. anecdotes and rhetoric. For criticism of studies which overly emphasize rhetorical and fic­ tional aspects, see pp. 5-13. 325 Cf. Kaldellis 2004: 160, 221. 326 Eds. Bethmann and Waitz 1878; trans. Foulke 1974. For discussions of Paul’s History, see Bullough 1986; Goffart 1988: 329-431; Pohl 2000; and McKitterick 2004: 66-83, who also discusses the erroneous notion that Paul was a monk at Monte Cassino later in his life. 327 Bullough 1986: 87, 95-99.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 115

attitudes? Was Paul imitating Jordanes's origin myth for the Goths? Was he a historian with a vision or merely a collector of old fragments and legends? Did Paul write at the request of Charlemagne in order to instruct the Franks about the Lombards? There are no unequivocal answers to all these questions. Geography is nevertheless used by Paul and other historians to define the Lombards and other gentes to such an extent that Goffart describes that the authors “anchored history in geography”. Geographical concepts, names, and perceptions had a role in the description and legitimization of new identities. Paul, for instance, also dealt with the linkage between time and place in other writings on such topics as the history of the Romans or the ages of the world.328 Paul's geographical and ethnographic introduction functions as a guide to certain characteristics of the society and rituals of the gens .329 Bullough thinks that Paul wrote an ethnic history of a gens and relied on native oral tradition, considering it superior to other kinds of evidence.330 In Goffarts view, Paul sought to place the Lombards in the framework of Christian teleology and, at the same time, employed stereotypical folk legends to define Lombard identity. Lombard history was given an instructive and Christian interpretation, in which a divinely chosen people leave a remote and harsh place and ultimately reach greatness in Italy.331 According to Paul, the Lombards were the Langobardi, Tx>ng Beards', who were originally called Winniles and came from the island of Sc'adinavia in the ocean north of Germania. The island had such flat shores that waves washing about it seemed to absorb it.332 Paul writes how Pliny knew the same island; thus, it is possible that Paul changed the name Scadanan into Scadinavia under the influence of Pliny.33334Paul’s Scadanan does not, however, correspond with Jordanes's Scandia, although Jordanes’s Gothic origin story could have inspired Paul’s source. This source is a brief list of kings called Origo gentis Langobardorum and was written probably c. 670 by an anonymous author. It mentions the origin of Winniles in the island of Scadanan (Scadari)?M 328 Cf. Goffart 1988: 336, 348 (quote). 32t->Paul 1. 330 Bullough 1986: 99-100. 331 Goffart 1988: 333, 382-387; cf. Bowlus 2002: 249. 332 Paul 1.1-2. The origin in Scadinavia is repeated in 1.7 and 1.14. 333 Foulke 1974: ch.1.1 n. 6. 334 Bethmann and Waitz 1878: 2. At the beginning, Paul recounts a modified

116 The North in the Old English Orosius

Paul also records other information about northern geography and peoples, but this is marked by fantasy. For instance, he tells his own version of the story of the seven sleepers of Ephesus. According to Paul, these men had been sleeping for many years in a cave on the shore of the northern ocean in farthest Germania, and he wonders whether these Christian sleepers will save the barbarians in the future.335 According to Goffart, this episode suggests that Paul was considering the possibility of conversion of northern Germania.336 Other legendary inhabitants on the northern fringes were the Amazons and the Cynocephali. Paul was one of two contemporaneous authors to place the Cynocephali in the North, the other being Aethicus Ister.337 Paul writes that the Scritobini live as neighbours of the sleepers. They live where there is snow even in the summer, and they are like wild beasts, eating raw flesh from wild animals from whose skins they make garments. Paul explains the etymology of their name, which comes “according to their barbarous language from jumping. For by making use of leaps and bounds they pursue wild beasts very skilfully with a piece of wood bent in the likeness of a bow.” The Scritobini used the hide of an animal similar to a stag or elk (possibly a reindeer) to make coats. Paul had seen such a coat, fitted in the manner of a tunic down to the knees. In these northern places, days were longer than elsewhere, and the sun was not seen at the winter solstice.338 version of a tale of two Germanic gods from Origo gentis Langobardorum. Godan (Wodan, Odin) to whom the Vandals appealed for batde victory, and Frea, to whom the Vinnili turned. The Vinnili women tied their long hair to their chins in order to disguise themselves as men on the battlefield. This look gave the Vinnili their name, Long-Beards. Paul (1.7) copied the Wodan story, although he re­ garded it as fabulous. Paul’s (1.9) second explanation for the name is that men wore their beards long and uncut. The origin of the Langobards is mentioned in other texts as well. In Chronicon Gothanum (dated c. 807-810, see (ed.) Waitz 1878: 7-8), it is at Scatenaugae at the Elbe. Another text, called Fredegar’s Chronicle (65), which recorded Frankish history until 641 and in continuations until 768, men­ tions Scathanavia, which lies between the Danube and the ocean as the home of the Langobards (ed. Krusch 1888: 110). Neither text describes the place as an island. 335 Paul 1.4, 7-9. 336 Goffart 1988: 383 n. 166. 337 Paul 1.11; 1.15; Goffart 1988: 383 n. 166. 338 Paul 1.5: Hi a saliendo iuxta linguam barbaram ethimologiam ducunt. Saltibus enim utentes, arte quadam kgno incurvo ad arcus similitudinem feras assequuntur. Trans. Foulke

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 117

The source of the information about the Scritobini is not known. The name probably comes from a textual rather than an oral source, but the reference to skis, hunting, and fur tunics must have originated from first­ hand experience and an oral source. Jordanes, Procopius, and Paul the Deacon may have had different sources for their descriptions of the Scritobini. In the context of classical images and nomenclature for the northern edge of the world, the name and way of life of the Scritobini appear to signify barbarism and remoteness. The references to skiing and hunting, however, correspond to real life, however fantastically they were perceived. In addition to classical sources, Jordanes?s Getica, Paul the Deacon's History, and the Osma Beatus map, there are a number of other Latin texts dating to between the seventh and tenth centuries where Scandia, Scandiae, Scadinavia, and their variants occur.339 These historical texts briefly repeat the same perception that the Langobards/Lombards left the island of Scadinavia in the northern ocean or in/near Scythia, but do not describe the island or add new geographical information.340 The geographical meanings of Scandia and Scythia were most likely vague in these sources. One of them is Historia Langobardorum Florentina, written c. 807-810. It is a brief history of the Lombards, and begins, as usual, with the statement that Germania is by the northern ocean. It refers to the islands of Dacia, Norvegia, and Scandana, which is also called Scandinavia, on the shores of the northern ocean.341 Dacia most likely refers to the Danish lands, reflecting the common confusion between the names. The island of Norvegia may mean Norway, but may also be an erroneous association of the name with a Baltic island. In either case, the geography is corrupted. Nonetheless, it is significant that Norvegia is perceived to be an island. Among other gentes who were given northern origins in medieval sources were the Burgundians. This group is associated with southern Scandinavia, although ancient and late antique authors did not record where the Burgundians came from before they arrived in the Rhineland or connect them with a place in the North. The earliest mention of their 1974. 339 See the catalogue in Aalto and Pekkanen 1980: 100-104; for some of the texts, see Bethmann and Waitz 1878: index entry ‘Scadinavia’. 340 Cf. Pohl 2000: 23. For examples of the equation of Scythia with the northern­ most regions in Latin sources, see Aalto and Pekkanen 1980: 52-58,119-184, 221228. 341 Hist. Lang. Flor. 599; ed. Waitz 1878; Aalto and Pekkanen 1980: 278.

118 The North in the Old English Orosius

northern origin is dated to the eighth century. The place-name Bornholm, ON Borgun dar-holm (r), may be related to their name.342 Hoilund Nielsen thinks that the reason for the Scandinavian origin stories, historical or not, was the fact that southern Scandinavia, i.e. Denmark, had developed into a powerful kingdom and was a contempor­ ary political alternative to Romano-Frankish dominance. She suggests that the occurrence of Style I and II animal art among the Lombards was partly a result of their Scandinavian origins. Animal style was an alterna­ tive to Roman style, and rites and symbols were additionally explained through a myth of a northern origin.343 Näsman also sees the Scandinavian peoples as important players in continental developments, despite the lack of written records for this. The Danes were in control of southern Scandi­ navia by the sixth century, and Frankish influences began to dominate at the same time. Archaeological evidence shows no breaks in links between northern and southern communities, which would have mostly been due to trade and the employment of northern military in southern areas.344 During the following centuries, the Merovingian and Carolingian worlds provided models for cultural, political, and economic structures in Scandi­ navia, particularly in Denmark.345 From Gregory of Tours to Aethicus Ister In addition to the above historical works, there are a number of other sources from the end of the sixth onwards where there is some mention of the North. In general, they convey little new information about north­ ern geography, and primarily endorse perceptions and concepts that are familiar from other sources. However, they complement other material in this survey by illustrating the variety of contexts where the North occurs. There is an anecdote relating to Denmark in a historical work written by Gregory of Tours (538-594), a Gallic bishop. His Decem libri historiarum (Ten Books o f History) or Historiae, or as it is usually called, Historia Francorum (History o f the Franks), concentrates on contemporary events and the Franks up to c. 590.346 The work is our primary source for the Merovin­ 342 Schönfeld 1965: 55-58; de Vries 1962: 50-51; Beck et al 1981; Hoilund Nielsen 1997:142-143; Andersson 2005: 600. 343 Hoilund Nielsen 1997: 142-144. She thinks that the Lombards and the Burgundians migrated from Scandinavia shordy after the appearance of Style II. 344 Näsman 1998. 345 For imitatio regni Francorum, see Randsborg 1996: 19-20; Wickham 2005: 372. 346 Ed. Krusch 1937; trans. Thorpe 1985.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 119

gian period. It was written for the king, and advocated a model of society in which bishops and kings each participated in the government of a Christian state. Gregory's Christian concept of history and many references to Orosius show that he had taken Orosius as his model, although he wrote no geographical introduction.347 Gregory refers at one point to the Danes, relating how their king, Chlochilaichus, raided Gaul in the early 520s. On his return journey home to Denmark, the king was killed in Frisia and his fleet defeated.348 The death was presumably a significant event, since it is mentioned in the text which otherwise has almost no mention of the North. After this defeat, the Danes disappear from Frankish sources for several centuries, perhaps because they stayed away from Frankish territory.349 The account of the Danish king has been connected with Hygelac, a Geatish king in Beowulf but this identification is problematic.350 Gregory’s Histories was known in England in the eighth century and used by Bede.351 Names for northern peoples can be found also in Latin poetry. Poems by Venantius Fortunatus, dated c. 580s, refer to northern peoples, but without specific geographical details. The Saxons, Frisians, Danes, and British are geographically grouped as inhabitants of the shores of the northern ocean.352 The various forms of the name Scridifinni occur in several texts in the Early Middle Ages, including the OE Or. Another such text is a lateeighth-century poem about world geography which is probably from southern Gaul, Versus de Asia et de universi mundi rota (Poems on Asia and on the Wheel o f the Whole World). It follows Isidore’s geography as given in the Etymologies, but mentions the Scridifinni and Frisians, who do not appear in Isidore and must have been added from another source or sources.353 347 Heinzelmann 2001: 105,108,191. 348 Gregory III.3. Chlochilaichus may have been killed somewhere in the Rhine delta as it was before the floods of the 12thcentury which utterly changed it. See a map in Haywood 1995: 24. 349 Hedeager 2005: 501-502. 350 For the problems, see Christensen 2005, who has examined the research his­ tory of the identification and argues that it is no longer tenable. See also Hygelac, p. 202 in this study. 351 For a discussion of Frankish sources and Beowulf see Whitelock 1951: 40-50. 352 Ed. Flemberg 1996; Herschend 1997: 41-42. 353 Ed. Glorie 1965d; Gautier Dalché 2006: 226. Glorie dates the poem to the late 7th or early 8th century (post-636). The line containing the word Scridifinni has

120 The North in the Old English Orosius

Although the poem is somewhat corrupt, it reflects how the name Scridifinni had become part of the terminology related to the northern edge of the world and circulated in poetry. Gautier Dalché considers this and other similar poems to be poetic equivalents of detailed mappae mündig which are no known to have existed at this early date. Instead, the poems may have been teachers’ tools, which provided additional literary infor­ mation for existing schematic cartographic diagrams.354 Aethicus Ister’s Cosmographia is a unique text. It is a translation by Hieronymus or Jerome of a text written by the otherwise unknown Aethicus of Istria, and it is dated to between the mid-seventh and the late eighth century.355 The text describes how Aethicus travels around the world, and describes customs and cultures he finds. The work is difficult to interpret, and some passages are incomprehensible due to the narrative style. It is often considered to be a philosophical parody mixing various literary sources with fantasy. However, Wood regards it as a more serious work and as a study of the whole world, not unlike other Christian cos­ mographies and histories.356 This strange compilation enjoyed some interest in the Middle Ages. It was also known in Anglo-Saxon England.357 A recent theory proposes that Cosmography was not only known in England, but may have had its prov­ enance in Canterbury—the author may have worked there for at least a period of time. The evidence suggested for this is a connection with the Anglo-Latin work called the U ber Monstrorum, since both works seem to quote a lost poem called Orpheus, by the Roman poet Lucan.358 If more evidence is uncovered to support the Anglo-Saxon connection or possible provenance, the work should be regarded as an Anglo-Saxon source.

been emended by de Fleschenberg to Scoti Frisi et Saxones ualmtque piratiä (Glorie 1965d: 448). However, variations of the name in different manuscripts support the reading Scridifinni, which is accepted by Aalto and Pekkanen (1980: 118). 354 Gautier Dalché 2006: 226. 355 Ed. Prinz 1993: 1-18. Datings of the text vary, see Pollard 2006: 7-8. 356 Lozovsky 2000: 31-33, and bibliography in n. 99; Wood 2000: 198. Whether the work was a parody or a more serious cosmography, it nevertheless is evidence for developments in geographical narrative at the time. There are some structural similarities with Orosius’s History, which the author used as one of his sources. 357 Gneuss, nos 386,439,839. 358 The Canterbury provenance suggested by Michael Herren (2004) is cited by Pollard 2006: 8-10. Other suggested places of origin for the text include southern Germany, Yugoslavia, and northern Italy.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 121

Since the author of the Cosmography paid particular attention to north­ ern regions, it is worth noting a few details. The text mentions Thule, but says that the northernmost island is jRifargica or Riffarrica in the northern ocean.359 This is most likely the author's fictional invention, perhaps de­ rived from the Rhipaen Mountains. It has been suggested that such fabri­ cations may have been included in order to mock contemporary practices of using earlier authorities and their terminology.360 The author mentions uninhabitable islands between the Germanic coast and the world ocean, such as Bi%as and Crisoldia near Rifargica, and Munitta, an island of the Cynocephali, ‘Dog-Heads’.361 The Dog-Heads are one of the ancient fabulous races living in the marginal areas of the world. They were inherited by early medieval authors, and their location cor­ responds with northernmost Europe and often with the Baltic.362 It is not inconceivable that their name in Antiquity derived from observations or second-hand stories of unusual clothing, headgear or shamans’ masks and dress, which then became a stereotype. The North in Aethicus Ister’s Cosmography is a pardy imaginative derivation from various sources, such as Isidore’s Etymologies. If Cosmo­ graphy was written, or material for it was gathered, in Canterbury, then the conception of the islands in the northern sea is significant. O f early Anglo-Saxon sources, only Historia Brittonum refers to an island in relation to Anglo-Saxon ancestral geography, as will be discussed in the following chapter. There is another Cosmographia which has references to the North, the author of which is not known, but is conventionally called the anonymous geographer of Ravenna.363 The dating of the text is uncertain. It survives in three manuscripts from between the thirteen and fifteenth centuries, but it was compiled earlier. Some of its information comes from ninth359 For a list of medieval maps with Riphatgica, see Chekin 2006: 239. 360 Aethicus pp. 113,6; 105,16; 130,11; Prinz 1993: 21; Lozovsky 2000: 32: Lozovsky 2001: 15. 361 Aethicus pp. 114,17-116,4; 117,4-5; 134,10. Munitia is associated with Scandi­ navia by H. Löwe (1975), as cited in Prinz (1993: 114 n. 155), and with the Isle of Man by Wood (2000: 199). 362 Cf. Wood 2000: 200-201. 363 Ed. Sehnetz 1940. An 11th century plagiarist of the geographer of Ravenna, Guido, was at one time dated to an earlier period. He gathered geographical names, such as Scerdifenni and Dani, some of which were taken from the Ravenna geographer (Aalto and Pekkanen 1980:118,146; Westrem 2000: 220).

122 The North in the Old English Orosius

century sources (texts, itineraries, maps, which are now mostly lost), but parts of it may originate well before the Viking Age. The author used many sources in his five books of catalogues of the whole world. Only a few sources are named, such as Jordanes, whom he used extensively but second-hand. Some material is invented, which contributed to the many corruptions of names and makes source criticism of the text difficult.364 The work is seen as a “wretched compilation” by some, but others con­ sider it a serious attempt to describe the world by combining ancient and early medieval geography deriving from, e.g. Strabo, Pliny, Ptolemy, Orosius, Procopius, Isidore, and Aethicus Ister. It uses biblical citations to create a religious polemic about the universality of Christianity, but the compiler also aimed to educate about the world, and to update knowledge in those cases where Roman geography no longer reflected the real world.365 The anonymous author uses a method whereby he divides the world into twelve segments in the southern half and twelve segments in the northern half. Each segment is equated with horae did and noctis*, places and peoples of the world are enumerated clockwise. For instance, the fourth nocturnal hour houses the patria of Dania, where the *Northmanni live. As was the ninth-century fashion, the Danes and the Northmen are equated in the section on the geography of Europe. The fifth hour is the land of the *Sdrdifrinori or *Rerefenori, which the author mentions in later books, using variant forms of the name. The *Sdrdifrinori are hunters living in a cold and mountainous country between the sea and Scythia. Dania is by the same sea, and the compiler names three unidentified authors (Attanaridus, Eldevaldus, and Marcomirus) as sources for his information about the passage.366 The eighth nocturnal hour houses the patria of the inhabitants of the ancient island of Scythia, which Jordanes called Scania, so the text claims, and from where the Goths, Gepids, and Danes migrated.367 364 Dilke 1985: 174-175; Dillemann 1997. The anonymous author may have used a lost map of circular shape, from which later large mappae mundi could have de­ veloped (Dillemann 1997: 211). 365 Bunbury 1959: 700 (quote); Reimitz 2000:116-117. 366 Ravenn. 1.11; 4.12-13, 46; 5.28. cf. Dillemann 1997: 27. Other variants include Scerdefennos and *Rerifenni. The emended forms of the group-names occur in the dat. pi. in the original text. 367 Ravenn. 1.12. For the Gepids, a group from central eastern Europe, see Goffart 2006:199-203.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 123

In the section on the continents, the author catalogues seas, rivers, towns, and peninsulas. The last book is reserved for the islands of the world. In addition to the islands of Scythia and Scania, the compilation mentions Thule in the far north. The extreme margins accommodated also the Amazons, the Rhipaen Mountains, and an ocean that could not be navigated.368369There is much confusion in the text. An example relating to the North is a reference to a Roman expedition to the northern sea and the Dacians, which is a corruption of Jordanes and shows apparent con­ fusion between Dada and Dania.569 Later European sources from the eleventh to the fourteenth century make a similar connection between Scythia and Scandia as some of the texts above. For instance, in his History o f the Bishops o f the Church o f Hamburg, Adam of Bremen (d. c. 1095) calls the Baltic Sea the Scythian Sea and says that the Danes, the Svear, the Northmen, and other groups in Scythia were called Hyperboreans by the Romans.370 Gahm suggests that Lat. Scithia/Scythia was translated into ON Svtþjóð in north European sources based on the phonological similarity between Lat. Svitia, which meant Svíþjód, and Scythia. This is similar to the practice of Interpretatio Romana (or Graeca), in which foreign geographical and personal names or phenomena are replaced with Greek or Roman names, terms, or concepts which sound similar or are familiar.371 Dicuil Some of the Carolingian compilations of geographical extracts were uncomplicated collections of extracts, but others were more complex and contained more contemporary knowledge.372 Gautier Dalché notes how, 368 Ravenn. 4.46; 5.31, 33. 369 Cf. Dillemann 1997: 48-49. 570Adam of Bremen 2.18; 2.21-22; 4.10, 20; schol. 130. 371 Gahrn 2002. He does not discuss maps or the textual history and transmission of the various meanings of Scythia/Scythians from the earliest references on­ wards. 372 A compilation called De situ orbis vel regionem (The Location o f the Earth and Its Regions), written during the period 856-870 by a writer called Brother G. (formerly known as Anonymus Leidensis), contains references to Viking raids. The author presents himself as a teacher replying to questions posed to him by students. The questions were provoked by the Viking attacks, but the author relied on tradition­ al knowledge and did not search for or apply contemporary knowledge (Gautier Dalché 1990: 13; Lozovsky 1996: 37-39; Gautier Dalché 2001: 2; Gautier Dalché 2006: 225).

124 The North in the Old English Orosius

after Isidore of Seville (d. 636), descriptive geographical texts are not known until the ninth century.373 At this time, sources begin to use empir­ ical knowledge. This is exemplified by Liber de mensura orbis terrae (On the Measurement o f the Earth), written by the Irish monk Dicuil. The work is a geographical treatise which uses traditional sources (most notably Pliny's references to Pytheas, but also Julius Solinus, Priscian of Caesarea (c. 500), and Isidore) in some of its references to the North, but at the same time provides unique evidence of Irish ventures to North Atlantic islands. Dicuil wrote the work at the court of Louis the Pious (reign 814-840) in Francia in 825.374 Liber de mensura orbis terrae became a popular textbook in schools. Dicuil is called “the first medieval geographer^’, but his work is as much about geometry as it is about geography. Numerate and literate learning complemented each other in medieval learning, not least in geography.375 We do not know whether the text came to Ireland, but it may have been known in England. Dicuil describes how there are many islands or sets of islands north of Britain. Irish monks sailed to one of these islands, generally thought to be Iceland, although the Faroes are also often suggested. The monks reported their voyage in 795, but Howlett dates the actual voyage to 775 or 792, and it is possible that there was also a history of travelling to Iceland and that it was not uncommon by the time of the report. Dicuil repeats some of Pliny’s knowledge of the North, e.g. that relating to the islands of Candinavia and Scadinavia,, the Amalchian Sea, the mountain of Saevo, and the island of Baida or Basilia. In addition, Dicuil refers to such familiar concepts as the Hyperboreans, the Rhipaen Mountains, and an icy sea. He discusses the length of the day in Thule, which he locates between the northern and western shore beyond Britain, in accordance with Isidore. Dicuil borrowed his description of eastern Europe from Orosius, but unlike Orosius, Dicuil’s perception was that all Germania was Gothia.376 Dicuil’s work is one of the few examples of early medieval texts in which Roman geography and contemporary knowledge exist side by side, apparently with no contradictions. Gautier Dalché argues that the 373 Gautier Dalché 2001: 2. 374 Ed. Parthey 1870.1 have not been able to gain access to J. J. Tierney’s edition (1967). 375 Contreni 2002: 46-49 (quote p. 49). 376 Dicuil 1.15-16; 6.42; 7.8-15, 17-22; Howlett 1999. For earlier voyages see also Cunliffe 2001a: 117. For the Faroes, see Arge 2000: 154-155.

The North in Ancient and Eady Medieval Geography 125

structure of DicuiTs geographical description has been altered from the classical patterns. The viewpoint used in the classical periploi approach, exemplified by Orosius, Prisdan, and Isidore, was no longer tenable in the ninth century; in that method, the Mediterranean was the axis of the geographical description, and accounts of other regions both began and ended in this place. For Dicuil, the Mediterranean was not the geograph­ ical centre of the world and thus northern regions, such as Thule, were given a more distinct identity. He questioned the worldview represented in earlier sources; for example, the tale of the Irishmen’s voyage proved that the world ocean was navigable in the North Adantic.377 One can look for causes for this subde shift of emphasis in the Irish experiences of the North Adantic, but also in the beginning of the Viking Age in the late eighth century, which must have made an impact on geographical con­ sciousness. Lozovsky has studied how Dicuil demonstrates the changes in world­ view and methodological advances in geographical treatises, although Dicuil describes no political or contemporary divisions or major sites and relies on ancient data. The purpose of De mensura orbis terrae may have been educational. The Carolingian period saw an intensification of interest in geography, along with other subjects of the liberal arts. The copying of geographical texts decreased after the ninth century, however. Geography was regarded as part of the quadrivium and as secular knowledge, al­ though it prepared the student for the study of divine knowledge. In addition to educational and religious purposes, the lively interest in Ro­ man geography can be associated with Carolingian expansionist political ideology in the ninth century. Descriptions of the world and its remote regions could have served as inspiration for rulers and politicians to ad­ vance their aims of political dominion as heirs of the Roman Empire, and for conversion plans. God’s design and imperial destiny for the Carolingians was supported by knowledge of the world. Dicuil’s work could have informed Emperor Louis about the world and depicted the empire as the new Rome, superseding the old one by extending it northwards.378 Reimitz also connects the new emphasis on regions north of the Alps and in the far north with political developments. The military and political impact of Charlemagne’s Carolingian empire changed geographical per­ ceptions. Reimitz points out that, although there were no real alternatives Gautier Dalché 1997; Gautier Dalché 2001: 2. ™ Lozovsky 1996: 25, 28, 32-42; Lozovsky 2006; cf. Gautier Dalché 1997: 124126,164.

126 The North in the Old English Orosius

to ancient methods of representing geographical space in the ninth cen­ tury, there were attempts to update, collect, compare, discuss, and system­ atize geographical knowledge in order to define a Carolingian perception of the world and its peoples.379 However, the visible world was not thought to represent true reality, as this was only known to God, and many authors doubted empirical, sensebased knowledge. Lozovsky points out that Carolingian geographical writ­ ers mostly turned to earlier authorities rather than knowledge acquired through experience. In this light, Dicuil must have used oral accounts of the monks’ voyage, rather than written records of it, in order to modify earlier authorities. He first borrows from Pliny, Isidore, and Solinus and only then describes the voyage, apologizing for not finding confirmation for the existence of northern islands.380 Dicuil both trusted and doubted oral accounts, and appears to treat oral and written sources, old or con­ temporary, with equal caution, emphasizing their message rather than their form. In comparison, the travel accounts in the OE Or. are based on oral reports and observation, they update Orosius, and they are inserted within an authoritative, albeit outdated description of the world. They appear to reflect somewhat similar phenomena as Dicuil’s work in the Carolingian period, as I will discuss later. Carolingian histories and annals Continental chroniclers recorded Viking attacks in Europe in the late eighth and ninth centuries. Viking activity in Francia extended from the first recorded attack in 799 to the mid-tenth century. During this time, attacks and fighting took place on the Frisian coasts, and the Vikings also penetrated the Rivers Maas, Mosel, and Rhine as far as Bonn, Cologne, and Koblenz.381 In the middle of the ninth century, the Vikings extended their raids to the Iberian Peninsula and western Mediterranean coasts.382 379 Reimitz 2000: 119-126. 380 Dicuil 7.15; Lozovsky 1996: 41. 381 Nelson 1997. 382 Pons-Sanz (2004) discusses a 13th-century Arab source describing an Arab em­ bassy’s meeting with a Viking leader in 844. The destination of the embassy was 300 miles and three days’ journey from the Adantic coast of the Iberian Penin­ sula, and consisted of populated islands of various sizes, one of which was large, and the adjoining mainland was also inhabited by the Vikings. Ponz-Sanz inter­ prets this region as referring to Ireland or Denmark, and argues that the account is fictional because the geography is not accurate enough. But why should we

The North in Ancient and Eady Medieval Geography 127

Musset suggests that one of the reasons for the successful continuation of Viking raids for almost three centuries was the good information network of the Vikings.383 The Carolingian realm was very large and extended to the abovementioned places in present-day Germany and the Nertherlands. The River Elbe was the border zone in the north after the Saxon wars ended in 804. The Carolingians were engaged militarily and economically with the Frisians, the Saxons, and the Danes, and the emperors also sent Christian missions to these areas in an attempt to attach them religiously to Francia. New urban centres or emporia grew along trading networks from the eighth century onwards and benefited from contacts between the North and Baltic Sea regions and the Frankish Empire. This interaction involved travelling delegations, troops, and traders, and presumably also diffusion of geographical knowledge. Ambrosiani emphasizes continuity and the growth of trade in natural materials and slaves to the South and to the western Muslims throughout the first millennium A.D., and thinks that there was more trade of northern products than archaeology and texts indicate. Demand grew in the Carolingian realm when these goods began to pass through this region on the way to Spain and Africa.384 Frankish historical sources, written in courts for political elites or in religious contexts, have some references to southern Scandinavia, of which some of the most relevant relating to the period before the tenth century will be briefly reviewed here. The sources include new and con­ temporary information, but they do not describe Viking homelands or other regions in the North comprehensively. This may be related to the obvious focus of the Carolingian leaders and scholars on organizing and disseminating what had become an accepted body of knowledge and learning by their time.385 The main interest in the northerly direction was* expect accurate topography in this context? Whether the account is fictional or historical, an island or islands (or possibly peninsula) was an appropriate spatial concept to be linked with northern Vikings, regardless of whether Ireland or Denmark was the destination. The distances are probably conventional and ap­ proximate. For Arab politics and navigation, see Picard 1997: 33-34,179,343, and passim. >83 Musset 1993: 88. Ambrosiani 2002: 346-347. *85 Cf. Brown 1998: 168. McKitterick (2004: 13) notes how the geography in Liber historiaefrancorum (written c. 817), which constructs a new past for the Franks, still follows Roman administrative geography.

128 The North in the Old English Orosius

in the Danish border area: most of the references to southern Scandinavia are related to the confrontations between the Franks and the Danes. Despite this limited focus, the Franks did introduce new names and em­ pirical geographical knowledge to the understanding of the North.386 Most of the peoples and places the annals describe have some counterpart in the description of the North in the OE Or. There are some geographical details in the accounts of warfare in the Vita Karo/i Magni (U fe o f Charlemagne), which was written in c. 828/829 by Einhard (c. 775-840), a Fulda-educated scholar.387 The work is the firstknown secular biography of the Middle Ages, and provides a picture of contemporary ideas about what a great emperor should be. Einhard was creating an image and forming a set of political opinions.388 Charlemagne’s (747-814, reign 771-814) armies had approached the Danish territories. In the account of the war against the Slavs in 789, Einhard uses the Baltic as his geographical axis and describes those who lived around it. He describes how a gulf (the Baltic Sea) extended east from the Western Ocean. It was of unknown length, but up to one hundred miles wide. Many peoples lived around this gulf: on the northern shore and the adjacent islands lived the Danes and the Svear, who were called Nordman ni/N om ann i, and on the southern shore lived groups such as the Slavs and the Aesti/Haisti.389 Nordmanni and Dani were both used to mean "Dane’. The U fe has also other allusions to the northern ocean, the Frisian and German coasts, and the peoples between the Rhine and the Vistula.390 An interesting detail in the U fe concerns cartography. Charlemagne owned three silver tables which had maps traced on their surfaces—one of Constantinople, one of the city of Rome, and one of the whole uni­ verse.391 These maps have not survived. 386 Cf. Weibull 1934:123. 387 Ed. Holder-Egger 1911; Nelson 2006b: 305. 388 McKitterick 2004: 272-273. 389 Einhard, Vita Karoli 12; cf. Gautier Dalché 2001: 2. Chekin (1993: 492) traces the development of the concept of a northern peninsula through various texts to Einhard’s Ufe. For a list of 9th-century sources where Lat. Sueones, ‘Svear’, occurs, see Svennung 1974: 81. The term Marcomanni was sometimes confused with Normanniin the 9th century (Musset 1946: 131). 390 Einhard, Vita Karoli 15,17. 391 Einhard, Vita Karoli 33. For Charlemagne’s imperial ambitions as reflected by the maps and an argument for a Carolingian origin of the Peutinger world map (c.

The North in Ancient and Eady Medieval Geography 129

There is an abundance of ninth-century historical texts from the Carolingian heartland, i.e. the Rhineland and northern France. A new narrative genre, annals recording events year by year, emerged in the Carolingian period. McKitterick no longer thinks that annals developed from notes on Easter tables, which is the generally accepted view; instead, she believes annals can be linked to a revolution in Carolingian historical writing and sense of history, as well as to Carolingian interest in the reckoning of time and the Christianization of time and space in texts.392 A number of al­ ternative histories and memories were used for the compilation of many major and minor annals of the Frankish past. Many variant compilations circulated throughout the Frankish world, but the essential sources are the Royal Frankish Annals and the A nnals o f St.-Berlin, while the Annals o f Fulda give an eastern perspective. The main focus in these annals is on events rather than geography. McKitterick notes poignandy that the Royal Frank­ ish Annals record Frankish dealings with no less than thirty-seven different peoples, but only in regard to their conquest, defeat or submission to the Franks.393 Among the events recorded in the annals were Viking attacks and relations with the Danes near the Danish lands. The annals represent the Danes (or the Northmen) as heathens, pagani, but heathens with whom many negotiations were conducted and agreements made and broken. Much of the evidence for the ninth century deals with the Frankish inter­ action with two Danish royal families who were descendants of the kings Godfred and Harald Klak.394 The annalists provide names of Danish kings and information about royal genealogy, which is at times conflicting. The perception of the Danish lands was that they were dangerous and difficult to reach. The Danes sailed along the continental coast on their way out from or in to their lands. The Annales Regni Francorum (Royal Frankish A nnals, ARF), which cover the years 741-829 and were first compiled in 794, provide some geo­ graphical information about southern Scandinavia.395 In the revised ver­ sion, Einhard probably modified the entries from 741 to 801. The A RF were written at the court o f Charlemagne, and created such a powerful

1200), see Albu 2005. 392 For Frankish annals, see McKitterick 2004: 15-21, 84-132. 393 McKitterick 2004: 115. 394 Wood 1987: 42-45. 395 Eds. Perz and Kurze 1895.

130 The North in the Old English Orosius

image of the Frankish society that it has been the prevailing version ever since.396 Denmark first appears in the annal for the year 777, when the Franks were conquering Saxony and approaching Danish lands. This entry states that a Saxon nobleman called Widukind fled to Nordmannia and sought refuge with Siegfried (fl. 777-798), king of the Danes.397 In 782, envoys from Siegfried came to Charlemagne’s court, but without Widukind. The annals for 804 and 808 mention Sliesthorp. It is suggested that the place-name is a Saxon or Frisian form of the name of the well-known Viking-Age settlement of Hedeby in Haddebyer Noor (*Haithabu) by the Sli (Schlei) Fjord on the Danish-Saxon border.398 However, Sawyer points out that Sliesthorp rather referred to a small settlement just south of Hedeby. This small site existed for c. 100 years before Hedeby was built.399 In any case, the annal refers for the first time to the locality which Ohthere and Wulfstan visited several decades later. The Danish king Godfred (fl. 804-810) devastated another trading place called Retie on the western Slavonic coast (identified with a site by the Bay of Mecklenburg)400 and transferred traders to Sliesthorp in 808. In the same year, he built a defensive rampart in the area, perhaps in order to control the trade route across the peninsula.401 The rampart extended along the River Eider from Ostarsalt as far as the western sea. Ostarsalt corresponds to ON Eystrasalt, ‘Eastern Sea’. If the rampart does not refer to the Kovirke, as suggested by Sawyer,402 then it refers to the rampart known as the Danevirke. The earliest phase of the Danevirke pre-dates 737, which is the dendrochronological dating of the felling of the trees used in the con­ struction.403 If Danevirke was the rampart in question, the annalist credit­ ed Godfred with the achievement of creating a structure that was already partly built

396 McKitterick 2004:19, 23-24. 397 Nordmannia occurs also in ARF 782, 810, 820, 822, 823, 825,827, 828. 398 Marold 2003: 15. For Hedeby, see also pp. 354-355 in this study. 399 Sawyer 1988: 65-66, 72-73. 400 Müller-Wille 2003: 25-26. 401 For commerce and the economic implications of these references, see McCormick 2001: 580. For a reconstruction of Godfred’s attacks and routes, see Birkebæk 2003: 122. 402 Sawyer 1988: 66. 403 Roesdahl 1994: 111.

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 131

The ARE include the earliest reference to an overlordship in the North in the annal for 813; the chronicler mentions an attack by Danish kings against chiefs and people who refused to submit to them in Westarfolda. This area is located in the extreme north-west of the Danish territory, opposite the northern tip of Britain, and nowadays is Vestfold in Norway (western side of the Oslo Fjord). Vestfold appears to have been some kind of Danish colony at the time.404 The same entry explains how Godfred’s sons returned from their exile with the Svear and were joined by their countrymen from all over the Danorum terra. Another reference to a specific region is in annal 811, where a Danish peace delegation to Charlemagne includes an individual called Osfrid de Sconaom, ‘of Scania’. Scania was presumably a Danish territory and, according to Lund, Ostfrid was “a representative of that province”.405 Two annals contain references to Danish islands and other territories. The annal for 815 records that in the southern part of the Danish lands, i.e. south (-eastern) Jutland, there was a region called Sinlendi. It bordered the River Eider and the northernmost regions of the Frankish Empire.406 The annal mentions an island three miles off the coast, where Danish ships and troops stayed, and this could be the island of Funen. The annal for 819 mentions how a king of the Danes called Harald Klak was escorted to his ships by the Obodrits (West Slavonians in north-eastern Germany), and sailed back to his homeland. This could mean that the Danish kingdom included islands east of Judand.407 These entries, together with the earlier ones, indicate that the Danes manoeuvred in or controlled large areas in southern Scandinavia. Besides recording matters relating to warfare, defence, and intelligence gathering, the annalist (or annalists) describes attempts at conversion directed towards the Danes. The above-mentioned Harald Klak and his entourage were baptized in 826 in Mainz, and Louis the Pious became Harald’s godfather. However, Harald was later driven out of his home­ land. Archbishop Ebbo of Rheims visited the land of the Danes as a mis­ 404 Sawyer 1991a: 6. Lund (1995: 207) thinks that Godfred controlled most of Skagerrak and the Kattegat area, including the Oslo Fjord region. See also pp. 332-333 in this study. 405 Lund 1995: 207. For Skane and its variant forms, see Nyman 2005a: 586. 406 Sinlendi is also mentioned in Vita Hludomci Imperatoris (The Life of the Emperor Ludvig; ed. Pertz 1829: 620), which is a biography of Louis the Pious and bor­ rowed material from the annals. It was written c. 840. 407 Sawyer 1991a: 283.

132 The North in the Old English Orosius

sionary in 832. He did this on the advice of the emperor and approved by the pope. Ebbo had already baptized many converts there in the previous summer, which may have been when Harald Klak became interested in Christianity.408 At this time, when organized missionary activity in Den­ mark began under Pope Paschalis I (817-824), northern lands were also called Aquilo, Septentrio,, or Arcticus.409 Another set of annals, the Annales Sancti Bertiniani (Annals o f St. Sertin, AB) which run from 830 to 882, are a continuation of the ARE, and express “a cool spirit”.410 This means that the style was measured and the descriptions of Viking attacks were rather carefully weighed. The annals may have been a private work rather than an official one, and were written after 844 411 They record Viking activity in Francia, Frisia, and Saxony, but there are no geographical mentions of the North except for a reference to Dania, land of the Danes.412 However, there is an interesting mention of some men characterized as Rus who accompanied a delegation from the Emperor Theophilus of Byzantium to Louis the Pious in 839. The Rus turned out to be of Svea origin and were suspected of being spies by the Frankish emperor, they were therefore detained and never heard of again. According to the annalist, if the men had been genuine in their mission, they would have been allowed to return to their homeland with every assistance.413 The episode hints at a fuller geographical understanding of the Baltic and southern Scandinavia than that recorded in the annals. The Annales Engolismenses (Annals o f Angouleme) are very brief Aquitanian annals for the period 815-870, with continuations extending to 991. The annals refer to the Danes or the Vikings as Normanni, but deviate from this pattem in annal 843, where it is recorded that the Westfaiding attacked Nantes. The name probably refers to Westfoldings, people from Vestfold.414 If the interpretation of the name is correct, the use of the 408 ARF 823, 826, 827; Wood 1987: 36-37,43. 409 Reichert 2005a: 581. 410 Ed. Waitz 1883; trans. Nelson 1991; Wallace-Hadrill 1975: 221 (quote). 411 Nelson 1994: 441. 412 AB 855. For a land obtained by a Danish leader, see Lund 2000: 127,151-152 n. 31a. 413 Cf. Nelson 1991: 44, 80; McCormick 2001: 918. This is the earliest occurrence of Rus referring to Scandinavians. 414 Ed. Pertz 1859; Askeberg 1944: 116; Nelson 1997: 26; cf. Cleasby and Vigfussson 1974: 700: the 12th-century ON name Vestfyldir, ‘men from Vesfold’. The attack was referred to in other sources as well, e.g. in Chronicon Aquitanicum

The North in Ancient and Early Medieval Geography 133

group-name indicates that the Westfalding, had some kind of autonomy or independence, which would accord with annal 813 in the ARF.4r5 The last example of a Carolingian historical text to be discussed here is Regino of Prüm's (d. 915) Chronicon (Ekblom 1939-1940:187; Wessen 1969:18.

350 The North in the Old English Orosius

east of his sailing route (either through the Little or the Great Belt).366 Gotland and Sillende are not said to belong to the Danes or Denemearc\ however. This implies that Ohthere, or the author, recognized three en­ tities: Denemearc, Gotland,, and Sillende. The distinction in each case may have been geographical, cultural, or political, or any combination of these. It has been suggested that the distinction between the Danes in Jutland and Denmark is not a real difference, but that Jutland was the heartland of the Danes, while Denmark denoted the periphery of the kingdom.367 However, the travel accounts do not state this; there is no reference in either account to Danes living in Judand. Some studies claim that the accounts report this, but this is a misunderstanding or an assumption.368 The only mention of the Danes in the accounts is in connection with the port of Hedeby, which belonged to the Danes. However, the geography of Germania gives the impression that the South Danes lived in Jutland, although this is not explicidy stated. Thus, the idea that the Danes lived in Judand derives from the implication in the geography of Germania, from Hedeby’s attribution to the Danes, and from other historical and archaeo­ logical evidence, and is applied to the interpretation of the Danish lands in the travel accounts. Svanberg sees the Danes as a supra-regional collective identity; this identity was ‘created’ in the sense that a number of communities related to it, but it was not an essential quality of them. For instance, groups living in distinct geographical districts in Judand and eastern Scania differed cultur­ ally, but may have yet perceived themselves as Danes. Svanberg connects the adherence to Danish identity in south-western Sweden with “an aristocratic class”, and suggests that the term Denemearc may correspond to

366 For historical agreement of this information, see Sawyer 1998: 22-23; Lund 1991b: 164; Svanberg and Söderberg 2000: 253. 367 Scocozza and Jensen 1994: 43. 368 The verb hieran^ hyran, ‘to belong to, be subject to’, normally takes the preposition to, as in Wulfstan’s account. Jones (1984: 110 n.l) notes that the use of the prepositions on or in on with hyran in Ohthere’s account may imply a semantic difference. Page (1993: 533-534) has made the same observation and concludes preliminarily—but sensibly—that the use of hyran to + place-name indicates a closer connection and subjugation than hyran to + group-name. This means that Wulfstan’s islands and Sconeg were integral parts of Denemearc, but the coastal lands and Gotland were under Svea control rather than belonged to some kind of Svea-land. Analogically, Hedeby would be under Danish control but not part of Denemearc proper.

The Old'English Orosius 351

a network of aristocratic families. Local identities would have been more significant to the inhabitants of this area than the Danish identity, how­ ever, but the relative importance of each identity would probably have depended on the situation. Thus, concepts such as 'the Danish lands’ could be described differently at different times.369 Svanberg’s view is reflected in the travel accounts, where lands and territories are described as separate entities but also as sharing a common identity, 'being subject’ either to Denmark or the Svear. An inconsistent representation of emerging political units is not un­ typical in literature. When competing for power, interacting communities can overlap or be linked with each other to varying extents. They can be linked to interaction spheres or networks within the same or a larger region.370 The Danish network was dependent on other regional structures throughout Europe.371 The Jutland Peninsula and the Danish islands were intermediaries between central and southern Europe and the North through­ out prehistory. The relatively large Danish population was advantageously located, with easy access to all parts of their territories and control over the entrance to the Baltic.372 The North and South Danes In the geography of Germania, most of the directions attached to the Danes appear to deviate. However, as discussed earlier, the deviations probably result from a variety of causes relating to the sources of the information.373 In addition to the orientation, the terms TMorth Danes’ and 'South Danes’ have been difficult for scholars to understand (13/1421, see figure 4). Commentators have discussed whether the division into North and South Danes matches known settlement patterns in Denmark and southern Sweden and whether the names describe an ethnic, political, or geographical partition between Jutland (and possibly Funen) on the one hand and the other islands and south-western Sweden (and Vestfold?) on

369 Svanberg 2003, Part 1: 167-168, 186; Svanberg 2003, Part 2: 146-147; cf. J lelgesson 2002: 203. 370 Earle 1991: 8,13. For peer-polity interaction (full range of exchanges between autonomous socio-political units, generally within the same geographical region), see Renfrew and Bahn 1993: 336, 490. 3,1 Kristiansen 1991: 42. 3/2 Sawyer 1991a: 285. 173 Valtonen 1988: 35-36.

352 The North in the Old English Orosius

the other hand.374 In the text, the locations of the following places or peoples are given in relation to the South Danes: - to the west is the arm of the ocean that surrounds Britain (i.e. the North Sea) - to the north is the Ostsee (i.e. the western? Baltic) - to the east and (then) north are the North Danes both on the mainlands and on the islands - to the east are the Obodrits - to the south is the mouth of the River Elbe and some part of the Old Saxons. The locations of the following places or peoples are given in relation to the North Danes: - to the north is ‘the arm of the sea Ostsœ' - to the west are the OstÞ75 - to the south are the Obodrits. We cannot expect that the locations given for the North and South Danes are geographically accurate, but they nevertheless make some geographical sense. As discussed above, Ohthere’s account and the geo­ graphy of Germania, when examined together, imply some kind of dis­ tinction between the Danes in Jutland, bordering the Old Saxons, and the Danes in or Danish power over other territories, i.e. the islands and south­ ern or south-western Sweden.376 The reference to ‘some part of the Danes’, said to be next to SUlende in the geography of Germania, may refer to the South Danes and thus place them in (southern?) Judand. The territories of the North Danes on maram landum, dat. p i, ‘larger, greater lands, mainlands’, which may refer to the coastal regions of south and south-western Sweden and possibly also Judand, as well as some of the islands 377 Thus, the interpretation that the North Danes lived ‘to east 374 See, e.g. Rask 1815: 88 n. c.; Porthan 1873: 58 nn. 54, 57; Geidel 1904: 39; Ekblom 1939-1940: 187; Ptitsak 1981: 686; Jorgensen, O. 1985: 76-86. 375 For the Osti, see p. 418. 376 Bately (1972: 61 n. 6) suggests that the author may have thought that the North Danes lived to the north and east of the South Danes simply because their names indicate these relative positions. He would have tried to rationalize con­ fusing names. 377 Cf. Bately 1980a: 175. Jorgensen, O. (1985: 82-86) speculates on the maritime perspective of a voyager leaving the Sli Fjord and sailing north towards Langeland and then towards Öresund and Scania.

The Old English Orosius 353

and (then) north* of the South Danes is possible in this context. The North Danes are not given any neighbours to the north, and the Danes and the Svear are never mentioned in direct connection with each other. The concept of North and South Danes can be explained on the basis of the concurrent existence of supra-regional and local identities. Popu­ lations in Judand, in the islands, and in southern Sweden may have been perceived as Danish while at the same time being recognized as geo­ graphical sub-groups and as having different local identities. The division of the Danes would thus not be a political one.378 Since there is no evidence of the existence of two Danish kingdoms, North and South, it is likely that the terms North Dane and South Dane are geographical appel­ latives. It has been suggested that the terms reflect an earlier state of affairs and had lost their geographical appropriateness as a result of sub­ sequent expansions.379 Lund sees a representation of a political situation in the text. The terri­ tories belonging to Denemearc in Oh there’s account would correspond with the location of the North Danes in the geography of Germania. SUlende, which he interprets as Judand, would correspond with the location of the South Danes.380 This is certainly possible, although the theory relies on too many assumptions. The division into North and South Danes has also been connected with the distribution of semi-spherical vessels in Judand and flat-bottomed vessels in eastern Denmark in the Viking Age.381 The division of the Danes according to compass directions is not unique to the OE Or. Widsith has Sœdenum and Sup denum^and l&eowulj refers to nord-dene, mst-dene, suð-dene, and east-dene. These names are perhaps used for their alliterative convenience and semantic reasons rather than as pol­ itical or geographical descriptions.382 A tenth-century rune-stone from 378 Cf. Svanberg 2003, Part 1: 168-169; Svanberg 2003, Part 2: 148, fig. 61 (the geographical distribution of burial rites in southern Scandinavia defining modern Denmark and south-western Scania as a single unit). Andren (2007: 297) suggests that Denmark’ was not a strict geographical division before the 11th and 12th cen­ turies, but designated the South Danes. 379 Suggestions have been made by Geidel 1904: 33; Bately 1980a: 175. 380 Lund 1991b: 166-167. He suggests that the South Danes occupied the whole of Judand north of the Elbe and that the ‘mainlands’ of the North Danes ex­ tended to 0stfold and also included Lolland and Falster. For other criticisms of Lund, see Page 1993: 533-534. 381 Madsen 1991: 234. 382 Cf. Tolkien 1982: 163-164.

354 The North in the Old English Orosius

Lolland has suþr[tana/, but its context and meaning are unclear.383 The historicity of these compounds is difficult to prove, but they must have been meaningful in their contexts. Their occurrence is perhaps to be re­ lated to the dispersed geography of the Danish lands and the degree of knowledge of the Danes among peoples in northern Europe. Hedeby at the crossroads According to Ohthere’s account, the Danes controlled a port called at Hœþum, ON at Haipum, con the heaths’, Haiþabu, Heiðabýr; which was between the Wends (West Slavs), the Saxons, and the Angles. This port is known through extensive excavations to have been Hedeby, the largest trading port in Scandinavia in the ninth century.384 The earliest references to this place are in Frankish sources. It was situated at the head of the Sli Fjord at Haddebyer Noor on the eastern coast of Jutland, which is now in northern Germany. The geographically strategic location was at the other end of a relatively short land passage from the western Baltic to the North Sea. A landing place at Hollingstedt by the River Treene was situated c. 15 km west of Hedeby, and probably was already serving as its western port in the ninth century.385 Hedeby flourished between the eighth and tenth centuries and was an international meeting place and production centre at the crossroads of east and west, north and south, and of different peoples, such as the Franks, Saxons, Frisians, Slavs, Danes, and Svear. Merchants and crafts­ men visited or lived in Hedeby, which had a large harbour. The signifi­ cance of the place is attested, for example, by the minting of the first Scandinavian coins there in the 820s and its position between a western coin-based monetary system and an eastern weight-based system, both using silver.386 Hedeby was contemporary with Birka and Truso, which all represent the early stage of urbanization in northern Europe. Ports, trading places, early urban settlements, landing places, beach markets, local harbours, and production sites in the Baltic basin were used during long-distance and local travel from the seventh century, and particularly from the end of the 383 Lund 1991b: 167-168. 384 Jankuhn 1986: 65-229; Brandt et al. 2002; Marold 2003. According to Blomkvist (2005: 121), Hedeby was a distribution centre for Baltic-oriental influ­ ences on the continent. 385 For Hollingstedt, see Brandt 2002. 386 Maimer 2002; Steuer et ai 2002.

The Old English Orosius 355

eighth century onwards and throughout the Viking Age.387 In addition to walrus skulls, finds from Hedeby include two fragments of walrus ivory and some seal and whale bone. Although the ivory fragments could be production waste, it is more likely that the pieces reflect trade in ivory rather than ivory crafting at Hedeby.388 Around 970/1000, the settlement shifted from Hedeby to nearby Schleswig, ON Slésvik. This new town was mentioned in later English texts by Æthelweard and William of Malmesbury, both of whom also connect its general location with the ancestors of the Anglo-Saxons. The legend Sleswic on the Anglo-Saxon mappa mundi probably refers to the town or region of Schleswig. Hedeby may not always have been under the control of the same people.389 The statement in Ohthere’s account that the settlement was under Danish control cannot be proved or rejected, but it is reasonable to assume that the text describes a real situation at the time of the recording or editing Ohthere’s account. This piece of information reveals an interest in the power politics of the region and the current situation at a time (late ninth and early tenth centuries) when power struggles where ongoing, and may be an intervention by the author. Moreover, Hedeby was in a region that was of ancestral interest to the Anglo-Saxons. Bornholm The Burgendan, "inhabitants of Bornholm’, are one of the ethnic pivots in the geography of Germania. They have an arm of the Baltic to the west, the Svear to the north, the Sarmatians to the east, and the Sorbs to the south of them. They are also located north of the Osti. In Wulfs tan’s account Burgenda land is said to have its own king. Both passages suggest that the islanders had established an important position in the middle of 387 Callmer 1994b; Helle 1994; Birkebæk 2003: 42-47; Müller-Wille 2003; Ulriksen 2004 (who argues that the extent of the trade has been exaggerated, p. 24). For distribution maps, see Clarke and Ambrosiani 1991: 52, 69, 86, 107. The vigour and extent of movements within the networks made of these sites are still matters of debate. 388 Reichstein 1991: 65-66, 105-106, 109-110. For walrus skulls, see p. 302 in section 4.2. 389 The idea of Svea control as early c. 900 has been disputed and rejected; see Hellberg 1979:140,152; Jankuhn 1986: 72-73; Lund 1991b: 161; Sawyer 1998: 217-218 (rejects Svea control at the turn of the 9thcentury); Birkebæk 2003:189; Marold 2003: 16-17; Brink 2007: 72-73 (agrees with Sawyer).

356 The North in the Old English Orosius

the Main Baltic. The position given for the Burgenda land in the text leaves no doubt that it refers to Bornholm. The Burgundiones (many variant spellings) occur in sources from Pliny the Elder and Ptolemy onwards, and they have been thought to originate from the island of Bornholm.390 The statement that Bornholm was independent of the Danes and the Svear cannot be proved or disproved. The archaeological evidence cannot corroborate the textual material about them having their ‘own king*. However, the culture of Viking-Age Bornholm was partly distinct from those on the neighbouring mainland in Scania, Blekinge, and Judand, which suggests that the island developed separately, perhaps with inde­ pendent contacts with the Franks and the Alemanni. Close contacts may have also existed with south-eastern Scania. The many weapons and horses in burials from the sixth and seventh centuries point to a strong warrior aristocracy, military strength, and the consolidation of power. The development of a separate political status is probably linked with geo­ graphy, i.e. with Bornholm’s insular position in the Baltic, which perhaps required a defensive policy towards neighbouring groups, particularly the Danes, but also allowed close contacts with south-eastern Scania.391 The lands of the Beormas Ohthere’s voyage along the North Norwegian coast towards the north, the east, and finally the south lasted fifteen days, and most likely ended somewhere in the region of the Kola Peninsula and the White Sea. The motivation for the voyage is initially given as an exploration of the northernmost land, but later it is said that Ohthere sailed there to obtain walrus ivory and skin for ship-ropes (14/5-6, 30-32). Perhaps the first motivation was a conclusion drawn by the author, and the second describes Ohthere’s real purpose. The final destination was a laige river, and this has been much dis­ cussed. Most commentators think it was either one of the rivers on the southern part of Kola or alternatively on the southern coast of the White Sea. There, the crew met some Beormas, an anglicized form of ON Bjarmar; ‘Biarmians’.392 The OE Or. is the earliest source on the Biarmians, and it tells us the following information about them: 390 Seepp. 117-118. 391 Watt 1983; Jorgensen 1991; Näsman 1991a: 173-175; Axboe 1999: 116; Svanberg 2003, Part 1: 161-165. 392 In the Lauderdale manuscript, the first stroke of m in Beormas has been erased twice and the last stroke once, perhaps because the scribe had trouble with this

The Old English Orosius 357

-

-

the Biarmians had setded their land very well but they (i.c. Ohthere and his crew) did not dare to go there (14/24-25) the Biarmians told Ohthere many stories both of their own lands and of the lands that surrounded them, but Ohthere did not know what was true of it because he did not see it himself (14/27-29) it seemed to Ohthere that the Finnas and the Biarmians spoke almost the same language (14/29-30).

The destination is not explicidy connected with the Biarmians, but the context allows this association: there was a large river which turned up into the land, and they turned up into the river because they did not dare to sail past it for fear of hostility, since the land was all setded on the other side of the river (14/17-21). There is no definite indication in the text that meeting the Biarmians had anything to do with exploration or the hunting of walruses. As dis­ cussed earlier, however, it is possible to interpret the phrase ‘killed sixty of them in two days’ as a reference to the killing of walruses and not whales, and conclude that Ohthere was involved in walrus-hunting. The walrus teeth given to King Alfred may have been acquired during the Arctic voyage, either by hunting or in exchange with people Ohthere met.393 unfamiliar name (Fell 1984: 58), or was attempting to alter it to the more familiar OE beomas, ‘men, people5(Ross 1940:19 n. 24). 393 Knowledge of the environment and (pre)history of Fennoscandia is helpful in commenting on Ohthere5s account. A lack of this can lead to unreliable con­ clusions. For instance, Michelet (2005) identifies the Finnas as ‘Finns5 (p. 62), but a particularly flawed argument concerns the Biarmians. Michelet writes that the Biarmians informed Ohthere “on a number of subjects55, which is an incorrect interpretation of the text. She concludes that the Biarmians were “a civilized people55 and that they “function as a mirror image reflecting King Alfred’s own court55, recasting “the royal court as a new central point55 in the context of the new geography in the OE Or (pp. 62-63). However, the conclusion that Alfred’s court was a centre of new knowledge is much better supported by the existence of literature from Alfred’s time than by the Biarmians in Ohthere’s account. The key figure in Ohthere’s account is not the Biarmians but Ohthere, who is repre­ sented as a civilized man. The Biarmians do not reflect Alfred or aspects of Anglo-Saxon culture. They were potentially hostile, they were probably not in their own homeland when Ohthere met them, and he hesitated to believe their stories. Michelet’s use of Ohthere’s account as support for her argument is un­ convincing, although the claims that Alfred and the Anglo-Saxon mappa mundi placed England at the centre of geographical exploration, made it a pivot in

358 The North in the Old English Orosius

The statements about the lands of the Biarmians imply that Ohthere did not see much of them or their surrounding lands. This implication is not affected by the somewhat ambiguous meaning of the phrase he hit self ne geseah, ‘he did not see it himself (14/29). The pronoun hit, ‘if (n. acc. sg.) refers either to lande (n. dat. sg.) or to landum (n. dat. pi.).394 The word land can mean a country, a land occupied by a people, a settled area, or the ground used for settling. But if Ohthere did not see the Biarmians5 own lands but only heard stories about them, where then did he meet them? We cannot be sure whether the Biarmians whom Ohthere met were in their own territory or whether they were also on an expedition in a foreign or overseas territory. Even though the land of the Biarmians may have extended from the Kola Peninsula to the western part of the White Sea, as suggested by Jackson,395 both the Northmen and the Biarmians may in fact been outside their permanent homes or cultural heartlands when they met. This interpretation of the text has not been discussed in the second­ ary literature, but it is a reasonable conclusion on the basis of what is known of the use of natural resources in the White Sea region by various groups from Fennoscandia in the Early Middle Ages.396 Mobility and the traversing of long distances in various seasonal conditions were typical characteristics of northern peoples’ lifestyles. If the Biarmians were indeed on an expedition, the statement about stories of ‘their own lands and lands that surrounded them5 becomes more comprehensible from Ohthere’s point of view. He did not actually see these lands himself because he and the Biarmians he met were both away from their homelands. The statement can also be seen in the context of ancient ethnographic descriptions, where the origin, origo, of a people was

European geography, and gave it a new sense of identity, are otherwise relevant points. 394 Hit in the nominative and accusative can be used as an anaphoric relative pro­ noun, referring back to a noun, without regard to the number and gender of the noun to which it refers (Mitchell 1985, voi. 1: 622-623). 395Jackson (2002) suggests that Bjarmaland in the ON sagas was a large area in the western part of the White Sea area, between the River Onega and the Strelna or the Lower Warzuga (but the Vina in some sagas could mean the Lower Dvina). Ohthere’s information would belong to this tradition of contacts with Bjarmaland. I find her theory persuasive, particularly because of her critical reviews of earlier Biarmia scholarship in Russia and knowledge of the sagas. This theory about Biarmia’s location supports Ohthere’s account. 396 For the idea of a Biarmian colony on Kola, see Valtonen 1988: 82-83.

The Old English Orosius 359

the main topic. Authors wanted to establish whether a people were in­ digenous to a place, had migrated there from elsewhere, or were living in their present location temporarily. Origo also addressed the language of the people. The Biarmians were only of concern to the author in terms of establishing that they did not actually live permanendy in the place where Ohthere met them, and that linguistically they could be grouped with other northernmost people, i.e. the Finnas. L inguistic placem ent According to Ohthere’s account, the Biarmians and the Finnas spoke almost the same language. This is the only straightforward piece of infor­ mation in the account that can help with the identification of the Biarmians. Ohthere compared the language of the Biarmians with that of the Finnas in general. Since the term Finnas refers to the Sami, the conclusion is that both the Sami and the Biarmians spoke languages that are now categorized as Finno-Ugric. It is reasonable to assume that Ohthere himself or someone in his crew knew a Sami dialect well enough to be able to communicate with the Biarmians.397 It is not inconceivable that some Biarmians were familiar with ON, in view of the ancient contacts between east and west in north­ ern Fennoscandia. It should not be viewed as improbable that mobile hunters, traders, or explorers would have multilingual skills. In a de­ scription of another meeting between Biarmians and Northmen, an ON text describes how some people living after Ohthere’s time also possessed linguistic skills. In Örvar-Odds Saga, Odd asks ‘Do you know anything about the language of these people [Biarmians] ?’‘No more than the twit­ tering of the birds,’ said Asmund. ‘Can you make anything of it?’ ‘About

397 Odner (1983: 70, 81; Odner 1985: 30) suggests that the Biarmians were Komi or Zyrians and that Permian dialects were probably the main languages spoken in the area between the territory of the East Bulgarians and the White Sea. He thinks that Ohthere’s linguistic remark derives from the fact that the Terfinnas had adopt­ ed a language from the Biarmians, who were their chief foreign contacts. Odner admits that his theory is problematic, but points out that “it is not less problem­ atic than supposing Sami ethnicity [for the Terfinnas\ in the ninth century because this was so in the thirteenth century”. However, Odner’s argumentation is not convincing; he assumes too much about Ohthere’s personal abilities, and ignores the possibility that an interpreter was used (as suggested by Storm 1893-1894: 96; Haavio 1965: 14).

360 The North in the Old English Orosius

as much as you’, said Odd, ‘but you see that man there serving drinks to both benches. I’ve an idea he knows how to speak Norse.’398 Old Norse sources describe Norwegian expeditions to Bjarmaland made between the tenth and the twelfth centuries. The last of these voyages was made in 1222. Although the texts do not explicidy state the reason for the voyages or describe the routes in detail, the trips were evidendy made for the purpose of hunting and trading various products, e.g. furs, skins, ivory, and hawks.399 These voyages were profitable, forming part of the regular economic life of the northern Norwegians, and were often instigated by local royal authority. The nature of these voyages has been compared to Viking raids.400 For instance, Ólafs saga Helga (The Saga o f St. O laf) describes a voyage by Karle, Gunns tein, and Tore Hund in 1026. They bartered their goods for furs and skins at a trading station by the River Vina and plundered a sanctuary in a forest where a wooden idol called Jomali stood within a temple enclosure, decorated with jewellery and with a silver bowl full of coins in his lap.401 Voyages to Bjarmaland were journeys to pagan lands for the Christian Icelandic audience. The Biarmians and Biarmia in north-western Russia are named in other medieval and early modem texts and maps, both Latin and Arabic, e.g. by Nizami Gandzhevi (a Persian poet, c. 1200), Saxo Grammaticus, and Olaus Magnus.402 Here, however, I will focus on the information in Ohthere’s account and its context. Arrival at a river Nothing can be said with certainty about where Oh there met the Biarmians, since the author does not name the river or *Beormaland. This is why commentators’ suggestions of potential rivers cover practically the entire Kola and White Sea region. Many believe that Ohthere arrived at 398 Orvar-Odds Saga 1,4; trans. Ross 1940: 37. 399 Storm 1893-1894: 97; Nansen 1911: 393; Ross 1940: 29-39; Haavio 1965. The route was usually simply a way ‘north’ (Jackson 1992a: 126). 400 Authen Blom 1984: 386. 401 Olafs Saga 133-137. The word ]omaH does not exist in Komi or Zyhan, which is why the identification of the Biarmians with Permian peoples has generally been rejected (Tallgren 1931:117-118; Jaakkola 1956: 242-243; Stang 1977: 98,106). 402 For Latin and later sources, see Haavio 1965; Ross 1940: 39-42; Stang 1977: 16-45; Stang 1981. Stang’s Bjarmene (1977) is an interesting work, but sometimes lacks a critical approach and does not refer to more current material, e.g. that by Finnish scholars.

The Old Jlngiish Orosius 3 6 1

the River Dvina on the south-eastern coast of the White Sea, near Arkhangelsk. This theory equates the Northern Dvina (Western Dvina, M. Viena) with ON Vina/Duna,, where the Norwegians sailed for trade as described in ON sources.403 Storm was the first to reject the Dvina theory, and suggested that Ohthere landed at the head of the Kandalaksha Bay, a theory which was supported by others.404 However, the statement that Ohthere did not dare to sail on past the river weakens this theory. Other suggestions propose that Ohthere’s river was either the Kem or the Vyg near Belomorsk on the south-western coast of the White Sea. This is an interesting theory, as there have been many finds related to the Sami and Finno-Ugric-speaking peoples on both the islands and the mainland, and there are also waterways leading to Finland and Russia in this region, which would have made it a contact area for people from all directions.405 However, the text contains no mention of crossing a large body of water at the end of the voyage. Ohthere did not know whether the land curved southwards or whether the sea or water he had reached was a large fjord.406 The southern coast and the westernmost part of the White Sea are least likely places of arrival, given the information about the length and direction of the last leg of the voyage (five days south along the coast). Alternative theories propose that Ohthere did not sail any further than the Murman coast (between the modern Norwegian frontier and Sviatoi Nos), the River Tuloma (the largest river system on Kola and an import­ ant salmon river near Murmansk), or the Varanger Fjord.407 These are not probable destinations, as they do not explain the last five days southwards or the large river. 403 Porthan 1873: 67 n. 94; Haavio 1965:16; Kirkinen 1970: 37; Huurre 1983: 421; Julku 1986: 57; Pöllä 1996: 251. ON Vina is mentioned as a destination in three narratives in the sagas (Jackson 1992a: 126). 404 Storm 1893-1894: 96; Geidel 1904: 51; Johnsen 1923: 9; Bergsland 1977: 4; Stang 1981: 341; Helle 1998: 240. 405 Simonsen 1957: 11; Carpelan 1992a. 406 For fjord, see Nansen 1911:134 n. 1. 407 Kuznetsov (1905) in Koutaissoff 1949: 22, 33. For a natural and cultural boundary in Pasvik and the location of the Terfinnas, see Simonsen 1981. For Tuloma, see Erkinaro et al. 2001. For misunderstandings concerning the arrival, e.g. in Finnish translations, see Valtonen 1988: 71. There is a split among com­ mentators; philologists and historians in favour of Kola, and Nordic archae­ ologists and historians prefer the southern coast of the White Sea (Vaitonen 1990: 209).

362 The North in the Old English Orosius

The scanty textual evidence points towards a river on eastern or southern Kola.408 The Ponoi River on the north-eastern coast should not be ruled out as a possible destination, although its current basin is not broad. The Rivers Warzuga and Umba on the southern coast are often favoured.409 This area is part of the Ter Coast, and has sand banks some kilometres from the water’s edge which cause stormy waves to break far from the shore. Most rivers on Kola have rapids near the coast which would have made sailing far into the river difficult on occasion. In general, the eastern part of Kola is less accessible to vessels than areas such as Murman or Kandalaksha coasts.410 Ohthere’s account does not contain sufficient information for the identification of the river, but it reports that Ohthere sailed all the way along the coast with the open sea on his port side. He waited for a wind from due north, but this does not mean that he kept the wind at his stem for five days, or even that the wind blew direcdy from the north all that time. It is possible that the winds, currents and surface seas in the summer at the entrance to the White Sea could have taken Ohthere south-west.411 A detailed discussion of climatic conditions, wind patterns, the dynamics of the waters, the text, and Viking-Age seafaring and navigation could clarify this or exclude some of the suggestions. The climatic warming in the Arctic may have already started at this time and would have had an enormous influence on the ecosystems and subsistence activities 412 The Kola Peninsula is almost entirely north of the Arctic Circle except for a narrow south-eastern coastal section.

408 An interesting detail in the Historia Norwegia (written during the period 1ISO1266) refers to Vegestav, ON Ægistafry Vegstafr,; as the northernmost point of Norway. The name is thought to refer to Sviatoi Nos on the north-eastern coast of Kola. The Kola Peninsula was understood by the Norwegians to belong to the Norwegian kingdom, and this cape was apparently an important landmark for seafarers (Ross 1940: 41; Itkonen 1968: 44; Seines 1972: 16-17). 409 Malone 1930b: 159; Ross 1940: 24; Vilkuna 1964: 83; Binns 1980: 30; Fell 1982-1983: 94; Authen Blom 1984: 385; Korhammer 1985a: 261; Jackson 1992a: 125 (the Warzuga or west of the Lower Strelna at the southernmost point of Kola); Englert 2007:128 (the Warzuga). 410 Brenner, T. H. 1921: 6-10. The largest rivers on Kola are the Umba, the Voronie, the Joukjok, the Ponoi, and the Warzuga. 411 Bately 1980a: 184-185; Crumlin-Pedersen 1984: 32-33. 412 Kislov (2001: 56) writes that the temperature was higher by a few fractions of a degree.

The Old English Orosius 363

Archaeological evidence from Kola, mainly from coastal sites, neither supports nor opposes the information in Oh there's account. The sparse finds of artefacts, burials, and setdements, which are interpreted as nonSami and dated to between the eleventh and thirteenth centuries, are evidence of habitation by people who had contacts with the region be­ tween Lake Ladoga, the Dvina, and the Kama, as well as with the Sami.413 Three statements in the account about the state of the land at the destination have caused confusion in commentaries: — the land on the far side of the river was eallgebun (14/20) — Ohthere had not met any gebun land until then (14/20-21) — the Biarmians had swipe wel gebud hira land (14/24). The first two phrases are usually translated as ‘settled’ rather than ‘cultivated’, but the third phrase is translated as ‘cultivated their land very well’. Variation in interpretations is partly due to uncertainty about what kind of cultivation or agriculture was possible on Kola in the ninth century. The climate was (getting) warmer at the time, and agriculture near the Arctic Circle may have been pastoral, arable or both.414 The word gebun in reference to land of the Biarmians may not indicate anything more than the existence of permanent housing structures in a hunting or trading colony and that some land was used for a small number of domesticated animals and for very small-scale agriculture during the season in which the colony by the river was occupied. Natural meadows are frequent on Kola, and the lushest meadows providing best possible fodder are on the river banks.415 However, translations such as ‘densely setded’ or ‘well cultivated land’ in discussions of the location of the Biarmians have led to some unconvincing arguments.416 In the end, Oh there’s account does not provide conclusive evidence for the practice of any form of supple­ mentary or episodic cultivation or agriculture on Kola or anywhere else.

413 Gurina 1987: 45-48; Ovsyannikov 1984; Ovsyannikov and Ryabinin 1989; cf. Pöllä 1996: 259. 414 For climate and agriculture on Kola, see Homén et ai 1921:19-20, 35, 88 chart III; Tolonen 1980: 34. For pastoral and arable cultivation, see Ross (1940: 45), who suggests that hay-making, cultivation of rye, and ripening of fodder-grass took place on the south coast of Kola. 415 For meadows, see Brenner, W. 1921:19. 416 The interpretation ‘densely populated land’ is used as an aigument by Tallgren 1930: 60; Haavio 1965: 12; Carpelan 1992a: 232; cf. Sandved 2004: 67 (Norw. trans, ‘helt bebodd’).

364 The North in the Old Engäsh Orosius

We should not assume that the Biarmians cultivated land extensively, but rather see the use of buan as a distinction between ways of living in general. It is more reasonable to assume that the author is comparing un­ inhabited land to settled land rather than to cultivated land. It is logical that settled land prevented Ohthere from landing. Throughout the description of northern Norway and the voyage, the interest of the narrator lies in the nature of the occupation of the land, i.e. whether it was permanently setded or not. There is a careful distinction between the way of life of the Biarmians and the Terfinnas and that of the Northmen. The Biarmians are also defined as linguistically different from Ohthere’s own people. Setded land caused Ohthere and his crew to turn into the river. They did not dare to sail past it fo r unfriþe and because of the gebun land on the other side of the river (14/19-20). This description of cautious behaviour is emphasized by its repetition a few lines later in the text: the men did not dare to go to the very well gebud land of the Biarmians (14/25). The phrase fo r unfripe, m. dat. sg., is another ambiguous piece of infor­ mation about the destination of the voyage. Was the author or Ohthere referring to a fear of attack by the Biarmians, a possible dispute or war, or was there a more formal reason not to sail beyond the river and not to go ashore on gebun land? Fell has challenged the established interpretation of ‘for (fear of)/on account of hostilities’ by suggesting that unfrip had a more formal sense and meant the absence of protection, safe-guards, or a treaty.417 Apart from the OE Or., the phrase fo r unfriþe occurs in OE only in an early-eleventh-century legal text, although unfriþ is found in the end of the tenth century. It is uncertain whether the meaning of the phrase in Ohthere’s account can be deduced from these later occurrences. Never­ theless, the legal text and other prose sources have led Fell to suggest that a legal translation may be best suited to the situation which Ohthere was describing. He may have diplomatically stayed outside the territorial 417 Fell 1982-1983. Her argument is based on occurrences of OE friþ with an assumed limited meaning in late OE sources (for a summary, see Valtonen 1988: 72-74). For the rejection of the use of the phrase in a technical legal sense, see Bately 2007: 156-157. For examples of occurrences of friþ in the OE corpus, see DOE. In the OE Or.,frip occurs in the meanings ‘the state of peaceable relations; an absence of conflict’ (112/29; 114/1, etc.), ‘protection from harm’ (64/1; 153/27, etc.), and ‘a peace agreement’ (74/7; 111/20, etc.). For words com­ pounded with jrip, see Roberts and Kay 1995, vol. 2: 988-990.

The Old English Orosius 365

waters of the Biarmians because he did not have a friþ agreement with them. Fell thinks that Ohthere was possibly hoping to establish fishing, hunting, or trading rights or an agreement about ivory trade. She suggests that Ohthere was asked why he did not sail further and he replied: “We couldn’t because we didn’t have frip”. River estuaries are crucial in a maritime context. In England, King Æthelred’s treaty with the Viking army (994), demonstrates how it was important to have an agreement or a treaty for those places where ships and travellers would meet. The treaty stipulates, among other things, con­ ditions for men and goods landing in England and uses expressions such as frip, ‘peace’, unfriþland, ‘hostile land’, and unfridscypy ‘enemy/hostile ship’. Trading ships, crews, their camps or tents, their goods, storage on the shore, the stealing of goods and the fleeing of men were governed by frip™ The protection of long-distance traders in ports was an important matter for both the hosts and the traders themselves. In addition to the traders themselves, local laws, the church, and the king provided a variety of protective measures in the sometimes hostile environments in the ports of northern Europe from the seventh century onwards. Frisian traders in particular spread this common culture of professional solidarity and organization in northern Europe.418419 There is no reason to think that Ohthere would have been ignorant of the ways in which traders behaved to avoid hazards. Among die Biarmians, he lacked the protection pro­ vided by his own kinfolk. It is possible that unfriþ may carry a connotation of a lack of the frip that existed within a kin group. The White Sea region was a source of furs, salmon, salt, walrus ivory and train oil. It is sensible to be cautious in a strategically important place in circumstances where people meet and exploit the same natural re­ sources. The apparendy contradictory statements that Ohthere did not dare to land and yet talked to the Biarmians become less paradoxical if we assume that an agreement was reached regarding personal safety or the temporary occupation of land or use of resources.420 The repetition of Ohthere’s apprehension to land indicates an acknowledgement that the Biarmians controlled the land on the other side of the river. The river 418 For the text of the treaty and a translation, see Keynes 1991: 103-107. Sawyer (1993: 144) remarks that, since Ohthere had no peace agreement with the Beormas, this implies that he had ‘peace’ along the Norwegian coast and among the Danes. 4,9 Lebecq 1999: 236-237. 420 These statements create the only apparent inconsistency in Ohthere’s account.

366 The North in the Old English Orosius

itself was apparently a neutral space and functioned as a frontier.421 Ohthere was a person of high status, had extensive contacts and know­ ledge, which presumably made him aware of the importance of suitable conduct in the situation he was in. Potential enslavement was one hazard during voyages to unfamiliar regions.422 It is possible that, if the situation so demanded, Ohthere and his com­ panions were able to make not only peace but also war. If we compare Norwegian voyages to Biarmia with Viking voyages to western Europe, both involved raiding and hostility as well as peaceful exchange. In the eleventh century, some of the meetings between the Norwegians and the Biarmians were hostile, although initially exchange was conducted in accordance with trading peace. Old Norse sagas describe how both groups traded according to international rules for conducting trade in peaceful circumstances (ON kaupstefna). The Russian Primary Chronicle or Tales o f Past Times (the so-called ‘Nestor’s Chronicle5) from the late eleventh or early twelfth century describes similar concerns over peaceful exchange between Scandinavian traders and the Greek emperor, which resulted in treaties and oaths. These have been discussed by Stein-Wilkeshuis 423 Treaties were made on various occasions throughout the tenth century (in 907, 911, 944, and 971) in order to make or confirm peace. The meetings where the oaths were made involved ceremonies and gifts. Such treaties had general similarities to those made in early medieval societies in north-western Europe. For in­ stance, some aspects of the treaties relating to shipping and slaves are closely akin to those in the peace treaty between King Alfred and the Viking leader Guthrum. Ohthere’s and the Biarmians’ cultures and languages differed from those of the Greeks, but it is conceivable that there existed mutually understood ways to avoid unfripy which in Ohthere’s account may refer to a lack of peace and fear of hostilities before some kind of mutual under­ standing was reached, although fo r unfriþe may not be used as a legal term in the account. The prevention of unfriþ would not have been an unfamil­ iar subject to the author or the audience in the Viking context of Alfred’s 421 For an example of rivers as political borders, see the mentions of the Humber and the Thames in one of the Alfredian translations, the Preface of the Pastoral Care 3/13-18. 422 Meulengracht Sorensen 1995: 49. 423 Stein-Wilkeshuis 2002. For oath-taking and protection in early Scandinavian law, see also Brink 2002: 98-99.

The Old English Orosius 367

reign. They would have known about the conditions to ensure friþ , which addressed compensation, punishments for violation of the treaty, weapons, restrictions to ensure safe conduct or avoid attacks, anchoring, and the supply of food and water. In Ohthere’s case, the conditions may have specified access to walruses, either by hunting or possibly bartering, exchanging, or buying them from the Biarmians. The oath may have been collective or sworn by leaders, and the ‘treaty’ would have been oral or perhaps involved some form of runic confirmation. The occurrence of fo r unfriþe in Ohthere’s account is the earliest at­ testation of the phrase, and should be seen in the context that the account describes. The phrase is an explanation, and describes a complicated social and ethnic situation. The process of reaching a friþ would have benefited from Ohthere’s linguistic sensibilities, since it would have involved social and cultural skills. If the Biarmians and the Northmen were both on a long expedition in the same area of the Kola Peninsula, they needed to secure personal safety and hunting and living conditions for themselves. This appears to have taken place without violence, as far as we know. The elusive Biarmians The OE O r and ON sources locate the Biarmians somewhere in north­ western Russia, but we do not know which specific group or what combination of groups were Biarmians. In spite of a long-standing interest in the subject, there is no recent comprehensive study discussing all the recognized western and eastern textual sources on the Biarmians critically and in detail and considering them together with Nordic and Russian scholarship and archaeological evidence.424 Many scholars have favoured the Veps, the Chudes or the ancestors of the Karelians, but other groups, such as the Votians and the Komi or the Zyrians (i.e. Permians), have also been thought to have been Biarmians. The Veps have been associated with OR Ves', ON Visinny the Wisu of Arabic sources, and even with the Vasina of Jordanes, the W ivgi of Adam of Bremen, and the Wisinnus of Saxo Grammaticus.425 The Veps have 424 In recent years, co-operation between Russian and Scandinavian scholars has improved the research situation, and the subject continues to be discussed by Finnish scholars. Saarikivi (2003) deals to some extent with this subject. For the history of research and opinions in Russian scholarship, see Koutaissoff 1949; Stang 1978; Jackson 1992a: 122-125; Jackson 2002:166-170. 425 Pekkanen (1992: 394) argues that Vasina and Wif^i were standard junk nomen­ clature circulating in ancient texts and refer to regions around the Caspian and

368 The North in the Old English Orosius

been located in the regions south and south-west of the Dvina delta and around the Lakes Ladoga, Onega, and Beloe. They have been regarded as middle-men in the trade of northern produce between other groups and the Bulgars and Arabic merchants. A large number of furs were also ex­ ported from the Beloe region to the Baltic or Western Europe.426 The Chudes or Zavoloscskaja Cud, "the Chudes beyond the portage’ (i.e. in the Vaga and Dvina basins), are sometimes linked with the Veps or the Votians, but more often they are seen as a separate Baltic-Finnic group or groups.427 Others suggest that the Karelians or their ancestors could have lived in or exploited the southern shores of the White Sea and the Kandalaksha Bay in the Early Middle Ages, and possibly established trade stations on Kola and by the Dvina in the ninth century.428 Old Norse sources, however, make a distinction between the Karelians and the Biarmians.429 Regardless of which ethnic, linguistic, or cultural affiliation is favoured, scholars have long considered the name biarmians to refer to people carrying out trade and exploiting large tracts of land in north-west Russia and possibly parts of eastern Finland.430 For this reason, the Biarmians are often characterized merely as Baltic Finns, a theory which assumes that the name refers to an ethnically or culturally heterogeneous population. There was something that distinguished the Biarmians from other peoples or interactive networks, however. This may have been their par­ ticipation in a specific supply network of northern goods, which later de­

Black Seas. 426 For the Veps, see Stang 1977: 45-96; Pritsak 1981: 693 n. 40, 858; Pöllä 1996: 265-266; Grünthal 1997: 97-112. For the central role of the Lake Beloe region in the northern fur trade network c. 900-1200, see Makarov 2004. Makarov (1998: 46-49) states that there is no continuity between settlements from 500-1000 and from the 10thand 11th centuries. 427 Cf. Haavio 1965: 55-64; Carpelan 1997: 80 (the Chuds were the Biarmians); Grünthal 1997: 150-171. 428 Nansen 1911: 134; Johnsen 1923: 9; Ross 1940: 5; Simonsen 1957: 12; Vilkuna 1964: 86. Koskela Vasani (2002: 80) suggests that Dvina Karelia was Biarmia. According to Itkonen (1943: 41) and Korhonen (1977: 76-81), Karelian-Sami lin­ guistic influences indicate that there may have been Karelians in Kola before the 10thor 11thcenturies. 429 Carpelan 1992a: 232. 430 This view is still supported by Carpelan 1992a: 232; Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 158-160; Aikio and Aikio 2003.

The Old English Orosius 369

veloped into an organization.431 One of the suggested etymologies for ON Bjarmar derives from Fi. perm i and means travelling merchants or peddlers. Although the theory is uncertain, it is still more reasonable than other sug­ gested etymologies. According to Vilkuna, a Permi belonged to a more or less organized society of traders working over large areas.432 Those areas where the traders had their supply centres and permanent setdements were called Bjarmaland,' Biarmia, or Perm by their neighbours. If Bjarmar was not an ethnonym but an occupational term, widely separated areas may have been called Biarmia at different times. Tallgren thought that any area where the Northmen and Chudes (Karelians and Veps) came into contact was known as Biarmia.433 Given current levels of knowledge, the Biarmians can be associated with more than one Finno-Ugric-speaking group in the area south of the White Sea and between Karelia and the Dvina basin as far as the Ural Mountains, which leaves many unanswered questions. For instance, it may be impossible to determine how many groups existed in this region at the time. It also appears that the Karelian Isthmus and Ladoga region were not ethnically coherent before the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries.434 An­ other difficulty is that of determining whether Biarmia was in the area of western or Baltic-Finnic groups, in the area of eastern Finno-Ugricspeaking groups in the Volga or Permian-Kama region, or in both. One suggestion reasonably excludes from the hypothetical Biarmia that area in Finland which is west of the eastern Finnish watershed and the Vepsian heardand.435 However, the eastern Finno-Ugric heardands remain prob­ lematic. A third problem is that no material culture can be unambiguously connected with the Biarmians. One reason for this is that no central places have been found north of the Ladoga-Onega-Novgorod region. The region has not been fully surveyed, however, and Viking-Age or early medieval finds are few. 131 Cf. Carpelan 1997: 80; Uino 1997: 201. Uino thinks the arguments for Karelians as Biarmians are poor. 432 Vilkuna 1964: 87-92, 98; cf. Tallgren 1930: 78-79; Itkonen 1968: 63; Kirkinen 1970: 409; Bergsland in Odner 1985: 24. For a discussion of some etymologies and an argument for bjarmar < permy see Chesnutt 1981: 70-75. 433 Tallgren 1931: 118. Meinander (1979) suggests the Jaroslav region was Biarmia and that it was politically organized at the time of the Norwegian voyages de­ scribed in the ON sagas. 134 Saksa 1992: 96-97; Uino 1997:124-130,180-182, 202-204. 135 Pöllä 1996: 277-278.

370 The North in the Old English Orosius

Influences and contacts between the inland regions of Fennoscandia and the Kama centre have ancient roots. The northernmost areas (North Norway, Swedish Norrland, North Finland, and the Kola Peninsula), which had a population of several thousand, had shared cultural features since the Bronze Age, and may even have formed an alliance system in­ volving marriages.436 Viking-Age and early medieval imports from the region of Finno-Ugric-speakers have been found throughout northern Fennoscandia, and they demonstrate that there were independent contacts with north-western Russia beyond Novgorod and the Baltic.437 Ohthere’s Arctic voyage can be placed in the context of traditional interaction in the region. It is likely that a sea route from northern Norway to the White Sea was known at Ohthere’s time, and that he was following an old hunting or trading itinerary. Eastern artefacts from the Novgorod and Permian regions have been found in the context of Sami or treasure finds in northern Norway, although none have been dated to Ohthere’s time. Many finds of south-eastern origin in northern Norway have been dated to the eleventh and thirteenth centuries.438 According to another theory, Oh there was involved in the (re-) opening of a sea route to the Biarmians, and his voyage was a purposeful explor­ ation, although he already knew of the Biarmians and the existence of wal­ ruses in that area.439 Transportation by sea would have made easier to move goods in greater quantities, or to transport new or heavier goods, than transport by land and river systems. There are a remarkably large 436 Carpelan 1997: 71-80; Johansson 2000. 437 Sjovold 1974: 333, 360-363; Odner 1983: 79; cf. Zachrisson 1984; Makarov 1991; Makarov 1992. Two ON descriptions show that the Scandinavians used waterways leading from the White Sea to Ladoga and central Russia (Jackson 2002: 173). 438 For eastern artefacts, see Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 87-90, and for treasure finds, pp. 82-87. For dating, see Tallgren 1931: 116; Ovsyannikov 1992: 172; Olsen 2002 referring to M. Jasinski and O. V. Ovsyannikov 1993; Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 157-158. Amundsen et al. (2003: 91) discuss multi-room house sites in Finnmark and northern Troms as evidence of inter-ethnic contacts and as trade centres where Sami elite and traders from different areas met. 439 Carpelan 1992a: 231; Huurre 2000: 255. I agree with Nansen (1911: 132-133, 136), who believes that Ohthere was not the first Northman to sail the Arctic route, and that he knew of the Biarmians beforehand. Northmen would have searched for walruses on the Arctic coasts before Ohthere’s time. For routes, waterways, and contacts in the region, see Huurre 1986: 5-200; Huurre 1987; Uino 1997:197-201.

The Old English Orosius 371

number of finds from the watershed area between the Gulf of Bothnia and the White Sea, i.e. from the Finnish districts of Kainuu, Kuusamo, and Salla near the current eastern border. These finds have been related to trade with the White Sea area. Some of them originate from Norway and may indicate the Northmen’s route to Biarmia or the Ladoga region. The latest finds have been dated to the early tenth century, which is soon after Ohthere’s voyage. Other finds show how south-western Finland was connected via the Rivers Oulu and Ii to the eastern watershed.440 Ohthere’s Arctic voyage belongs within the wider context of inter­ action in eastern and northern Europe. According to current views, the hunting of wild reindeer and other fur animals increased in the Viking Age and the Early Middle Ages. Long-distance contacts were channelled towards east and south-east and, from c. 800-900 onwards, Sami hunting societies were involved in an organized purpose-driven trade with groups in north­ western Russia and the Baltic. A dense network of waterways connected the North and Baltic Seas with the Black Sea and Arabic lands. Oriental imports began to reach Scandinavia and northern Russia by the 790s at the latest. Scandinavian influences and settlers concentrated around Staraja Ladoga, ON A ldeigjajAldeigjuborg, which was an international early urban centre between the eighth and eleventh centuries. The earliest Scandinavian artefacts found in Old Russia are from Staraja Ladoga and date from around 750s, but the majority are from the ninth and tenth centuries. Novgorod became a network centre in the ninth century.441 In the eleventh and twelfth centuries, Russians from Novgorod began to reach and colonize the White Sea region, especially the deltas of the Dvina and the Onega, but also the Lower Pechora further east. In the thirteenth century, when it was under Novgorod’s taxation, the Ter Coast on Kola was regularly visited by the Dvina Russians on trading and hunting trips.442 440 Tallgren 1931: 119; Vilkuna 1964: 95-97; Huurre 2000: 255 (Huurre believes Biarmia was by the Dvina); Carpelan 1992a: 231. Pöllä (1996: 275) discusses Fi. valas, ‘whale’, in place-names in and around Kandalaksha Bay and connects them with the exploitation of the wilderness by the inhabitants of Ostrobothnia. Paavola (2002: 13-16) cautions against interpreting the finds from eastern Finland as remains of Scandinavian traders given the current state of archaeological knowledge, and suggests further research into possible setders from south­ western Finland and local Sami connections. 441 Uino 1997:179; Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 136,138; Pushkina 2004: 43-45. 442 Makarov 1998: 41. On the basis of medieval documents, it has been suggested that the ancient inhabitants of the Dvina had the right to use the Kola and

372 The North in the Old English Orosius

The east-west connections can also be detected in linguistic material. Studies of ON geographical nomenclature for Eastern Europe point to an early stage of name-giving, probably beginning in the first half of the ninth century. The first stratum of toponyms includes such names as Vina, Duna, Gandvik, Bjarmaland,, Austmarr,, and Eystrasalt.443 At the time when Ohthere was sailing in the Arctic, other Scandinavians were entering, settling, and travelling in Russia to places for which they had their own names, such as Bjarmaland. For instance, Birka had insignificant eastern contacts before the end of the ninth century, when larger amounts of eastern objects, originating from the Caliphate, begin to emerge in the finds. Furs, slaves, textiles, metals, and other goods were probably trans­ ported through Birka to exploit the increasing demand in Western Europe and in the Mediterranean in the Viking Age.444 Ohthere’s account does not speak of a visit to Bjarmaland, however, but of a meeting with some Biarmians who told Ohthere about their lands and the surrounding territories. For this reason, Bjarmaland,, Biarmia, and heroic voyages in later sources, which continue to the sixteenth century, cannot be unequivocally compared with Ohthere’s account, which is not a description of the lands of the Biarmians. Later evidence may name and locate the Biarmians according to several independent traditions.445

Kandalaksha coasts (Haavio 1965: 20), but these arguments are not tenable for the late 9th century. 443 Jackson 1992b: 229-230, 235, and references therein. According to Jackson, Gandvik may mean the Arctic Ocean, the White Sea, or Kandalaksha Bay. 444 For Birka, see Ambrosiani 2002: 346-347. 445 For the suggestion that the later sources follow different geographical traditions, see Chesnutt 1981: 79; Jackson 2002: 170-174. Chesnutt thinks the different saga descriptions represent “multiforms of the same core of Norse traditions connected with Bjarmalaland”.

The Old English Orosius 373

4.4. Finnas, Terßnnas, and Scrídeíinnas Description The Finnas are named six times in Ohthere’s account, which also includes one reference to the Terfinnas. These references are as follows:446 "Wild mountains lie to the east and upwards alongside the inhabited land. In this highland dwell Finnas! In this sentence, the author uses the verb eardian., ‘to live, dwell, be an inhabitant’, in connection with the Finnas. This verb refers to a form of permanent way of living.447 ‘He [Ohthere] said, however, that the land extends very far north from there, but it is all wilderness except in a few places here and there Finnas camp, hunting in winter and in summer fishing by the sea.’ In this sentence, the verb maan refers to a temporary way of living which involves making or having camps.448 This verb and the expressions on feaimrn stowum and styccemœlum indicate that the Finnas actually lived in all parts of the land which extended north from Ohthere’s home, although their setdements were not dense. In this sentence, the author appears to slip into indirect speech and quote Ohthere’s own words, changing from the subjunctive to the indicative tense (sie/is).449 In the previous sentence, wiö uppon, ‘upwards’, may reflect ON usage, so it is possible that in these two sentences Ohthere himself distinguishes between the ways of living of two different groups of Finnasy those in the Norwegian highlands and those north of his home. He had not before come across any setded land since he left his own home, but had the whole way wilderness land to his starboard apart from fishers and fowlers and hunters, and they were all Finnas.’

',46 OE Or. 15/23-25: ..JicgaÖ wilde moras wiö eastan 7 wiÖ uppon, emnlange pœm bjnum lande 7. On þæm morum eardiad Finnas. 14/1-4: He sœde þeah peet [þcet] land sie swipe lang norp ponany ac hit is eal weste, buton on feawum stowum styccemcelum widaÖ Finnas, on huntoðe on wintra 7 on sumera on fiscape be pare see. 14/20-24: Ne mette he cer nan gebun land sippan he from his agnum ham for; ac him wees ealne weg weste land on peet steorbord,\ butan fiscerum 7 fuge lerum 7 huntum, 7 peet weeron eall Finnas... 15/10: .. .stœIhranas, ða beoÖ swyde dyre midFinnum. 15/14-15: A c hyra ar is meest onpeemgafolepe ða Finnas him gyldað. 14/29: Þa Finnas, himpuhte, 7pa Beormas spreecon neah angepeode. 1,7 Bosworth and Toller 1964: 170. 148 Ross 1940: 17, 19, 45; Holthausen 1963: 392; Bosworth and Toller 1964: 12121214. ■|4y Kerling 1982: 288-289.

374 The North in the Old English Orosius

This information is part of the description of Ohthere’s Arctic voyage, and here the verb buan is used in past participle, gebun. Here, ‘settled land’ is compared with mste land, ‘wilderness or uninhabited land’, although the Finnas hunted and fished in this wilderness. According to Ohthere’s standards, space used by the Finnas was not settled Two references emphasize the importance of the Finnas in Ohthere’s economy: ‘.. .decoy reindeer; they are very valuable among the Finnas ‘...but their wealth consists mostly of the tribute that the Finnas pay them*. Taken literally, the linguistic comparison in the text is between the Biarmians and the Sami in general: ‘It seemed to him that the Finnas and the Biarmians spoke almost the same language.’ Contextually, however, it is possible that Ohthere is referring to the Terfmnas. The comment deviates from the subject of the Arctic voyage, and may be a reply to a question about how Ohthere communicated with the Biarmians. Ohthere’s account gives the following piece of information about the Terfmnas, ‘But the land of the Terfinnas was entirely wilderness except where hunters or fishers or fowlers camped.’450 The sentence implies that Ohthere recognized a space where only the Ter­ finnas camped, and this is all the text tells us about them. In the geography of Germania, the Scridefinnas (MS. L Sridefinne) are located be westannorpan of the Svear. The name Scridefinnas probably derives from a textual source. It was most likely perceived as an appropriate literary name for a people on the northern edge of Europe. The author may have had either direct or at second hand knowledge of Jordanes, Procopius, the anonymous geographer from Ravenna, or Paul the Deacon, who all used the name. As discussed earlier, the name is also known from Widsith and the Anglo-Saxon mappa mundi. Jordanes’s Getica, Widsith, and the OE Or. are the only sources where the terms Scridefinnas and Finnas occur together, either in their Latin or Germanic forms. The phrase be mstannorpan is normally translated as ‘to the north-west’, but it may mean ‘to N 30° W ’.451 Both interpretations accord with the 450 OF Or. 14/25-26: Ac para Tetfinna land wees eal weste, buton 'Seer' kuntan gemcodon, oppefisceras, oppefugel'er as.

The Old English Orosius 375

information about the Finnas in Ohthere’s account, namely that they lived in the highlands east of the Northmen’s settled land. Even though the name has a strong textual association, the information that the location of the Scridefinnas was between the Northmen and Cwenland may have come from an oral source. It is argued that there is no particular literary tradition in antique and early medieval sources concerning the Scridefinnas.452 However, the name reoccurs in several sources as a marker of the northern edge of inhabited Europe, and thus has a role in descriptions of the world. In this function, the real reference of the name may vary according to the author and context, or the name may have no real reference at all. The term Scridefinnas in the OE Or. denotes a group at the northernmost edge of the world and is part of an intellectual tradition. The term Finnas in Ohthere’s account refers to a people who were known to exist on the basis of empirical and contemporary evidence, but both people are differentiated from other groups in die North. Ohthere’s account and Sami space The hypothesis in this study is that the terms Finnas and Terfinnas refer to the Sami.453 Scridefinnas most likely also refers to the Sami, but since the name has intellectual and conceptual significance, its ethnic or tribal reference is uncertain. When the North is described in Anglo-Saxon sources, the names Finnas or Scridefinnas also occur. There is no evidence of direct contact between the Anglo-Saxons and the Sami but our current understanding of contacts between Anglo-Saxon England and Scandinavia makes it theoretically possible that the Sami would have been known in England in other contexts besides the OE Or.454 The evaluation of the historical reliability of presumed descriptions of the Sami is affected by how we define Sami ethnicity throughout pre­ history. Another difficulty is that the prehistoric Sami habitats are now divided between four nations, and thus different scholarly traditions and political ideologies have influenced perspectives on Sami ethnicity.455 The 151 Cf. Brown 1978: 238-239. 152Whitaker 1983: 297; Bullough 1986:102 n. 12. 455 Cf. Valtonen 2007b. 154Townend (2002: 102) states without explanation that the term Finnas was wellknown in Anglo-Saxon England. ,l>5 Opinions are still changing, particularly since the evolution of a critical north­ ern perspective since the 1970s. For an overview of theories of Sami ethnicity, see

376 The North in the Old English Orosius

Sami have been accorded the status of an indigenous people by the United Nations, which also makes research into their prehistory a sensitive issue. Despite these circumstances, it is currendy understood that Sami ethni­ city has been a dynamic process rather than a static condition or a result of population movements. Sami and non-Sami ethnicities are not neces­ sarily mutually exclusive conditions that can be traced to the earliest inhabitants of the North. The time given by scholars for the emergence of Sami ethnicity as something that could be distinguished from all other ethnicities varies between the Bronze Age and the Late Viking Age. Some elements of Sami ethnicity can be detected in Bronze Age material such as rock art and pottery, but Sami ethnicity as we understand it today is a much more recent phenomenon.456 The questions of where, when, and how Sami ethnicity developed have recendy been joined by the question of why it emerged. However, membership of the Sami ethnicity in the late ninth century in inland Scandinavia (Kölen), Finnmark, and the Kola Peninsula may have varied according to material culture, subsistence methods, language or dialect, social structure, and political or economic contacts or networks. Archaeological finds which have been linked with the Sami or Proto-Sami do not show a clear pattem of homogeneous pan-Sami identity in Ohthere’s time.457 Regardless of where or when in Fennoscandia their ethnicity de­ veloped, the Sami have been an integral part of the history and space of the North. This is also the implication of the description of the Sami in Ohthere’s account. The Sami are a large presence in the northern land­ scape. They are defined culturally, geographically, and linguistically. The information in Ohthere’s account about the Sami agrees with the view of some leading Sami prehistorians and archaeologists, who define Sami Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 20^15. 456 The differentiation of Sami ethnicity in the 2nd millennium B.C. is linked to asbestos pottery (Bergman 1998; Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 38, 41, 53-58). Carpelan (2006: 80) thinks it is likely that the Proto-Sami language and Sami identity were consolidated in the period 700 B.C.-A.D. 300 in northern Fenno­ scandia. For a possible change of language by the Sami c. 0-A.D. 500, see Aikio 2004; Aikio 2006, supported by Carpelan 2006. Aikio (2004: 26-28) defines Sami ethnicity linguistically, places their original homeland near the Gulf of Finland and Lakes Ladoga and Onega, and rejects the idea of Sami ethnic continuity in Lapland since the Neolithic. 457 Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 133,136.

The Old English Orosius 377

ethnicity as a cultural identity which is expressed by setdement types, social structure, and attachment to certain economies and territories until about Ohthere’s time. This changed into an expression of a more symbolic ethnicity in the tenth century.458 Ohthere’s Sami connection was the source of his wealth, and consequendy of interest to the Anglo-Saxon audience. According to him, the space of the Sami stretched from the Norwegian highlands to the Arctic coasts and the Kola Peninsula. It covered many of the Sami territories known from later periods, except for parts of Norrland, Finland, and regions between the Gulf of Finland and the White Sea. The Sami lived— and continue to live—in various ecologically distinct habitats: Arctic coasts, low fjelds and valleys in Finnmark and Kola, inland forests, high­ land and mountain regions, and bare mountaintop regions above the tree line (Fi. paljakka- or avotunturialué) in Jämdand, Härjedalen, and cor­ responding Norwegian areas. At least some of the population moved between the coast and inland areas according to the seasons in the northernmost areas during the first millennium A.D.459 The geographical and economic variations reflect the traditional division of the Sami into three groups in historical times: Coastal or Sea Sami, Fisher or Forest Sami in river valleys, and Mountain or Reindeer Sami. The identification of the Sami in archaeological material is com­ plicated, but many finds have been attributed to them, such as winter and summer settlement sites close to waterways, inhumation and cremation burials, bear burials, metal deposits, trapping pits, and many types of artefact, such as asbestos ware pottery.460 If there were non-Sami living together or in close interaction with the Sami they cannot be fully dis­ tinguished in the archaeological material before the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Nonetheless, some remains in northern Norway may be traces of ethnic markers in boundary zones between the Sami and the North­ men. The Viking Age and the Early Middle Age were a time of social and religious differentiation within Sami communities.461 458 Zachrisson et al 1997; Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 40. 459 Halinen 2005: 94-96, 106-108, 111-112. There have been chronological and topographical variations in contact-networks and cyclic subsistence methods. 460 Storli 1993; Stork 1994: 16-17, 71-79; Baudou 1995: 145-156; Mulk 1996: 161165; Zachrisson et al. 1997: 191-218; Olsen 2000: 37-40; Broadbent and Storá 2003; Carpelan 2003: 23-26; Hansen and Olsen 2004b: passim. 461 Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 121,130-131. For the differences between Sami and Scandinavian culture, such as the use of skis and huts by the Sami and snow shoes

378 The North in the Old English Orosius

Assuming that the term Finnas refers to people of Sami ethnicity, there is archaeological evidence that the territories mentioned in Ohthere’s account were inhabited by the Sami. During the second half of the first millennium, habitats that have been connected with the Sami extended from northern Norway and the Kola Peninsula to at least as far as Trondelag in Norway and Jämdand and Medelpad in Sweden, and to central or southern Finland as well as eastern Karelia.462 For instance, burials laid in or under rock or stones (Norw. urgrav) in northern Norway, Trondelag, Norrland, and Finnish Lapland are related to the Sami and have been dated to a period between the Viking Age and the eighteenth century, except for in Varanger, where these finds begin to occur much earlier in the first millennium B.C. Stone-laid pits in small groups on the coasts of North Troms and Finnmark were used for train-oil production and have been interpreted as ethnic signifiers and markers of the bound­ ary between permanent and temporary settlements. Their use intensifies c. A.D. 600-900. In South Troms and North Nordland, on the other hand, the Sami lived mainly inland, although some also lived on the coast and the islands, which were also inhabited by Northmen.463 Other features, such as sacrificial sites and bear burials express aspects of Sami religion. The increase and spreading of the burials and sacrificial sites, on the other hand, reflect intensified trading contacts—western contacts in the ninth century, and thereafter contacts with the Baltic-Finnic regions around the Gulf of Finland and Novgorod.464 The distribution of the rock-burials supports Ohthere’s information about the Finnas in northern Norway. In general, these and other finds corroborate the references in Ohthere’s account that the Finnas practised a seasonal economy, camping on the coast and fishing in the summer and spending the winter in the interior. However, how prevalent Sami nomadism was throughout Fennoscandia cannot be judged from the text and long houses by the Scandinavians, see Zachrisson 1994:176. 462 Odner 1983: 37-38, 74-84; Uino 1997: 108-109; Zachrisson et al 1997: 30-40, 219; Huurre 2000: 266; Salo 2000: 27-64, 82-84; Baudou 2002: 5-36; Carpelan 2003: 25. How far south Sami groups lived in the Iron Age is debated in Norway, Sweden, and Finland. One complication is that few finds have been discovered in Fennoscandian Lapland during the period A.D. 300-700/800. 463 Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 75-79, 116-122. These writers suggest that the Sami lived in those areas where there are no Late-Iron- and Viking-Age finds attributed to the Northmen. 464 Odner 1983: 119; Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 74-75.

The Old English Orosius 379

The ethnicity of the inhabitants of southern central regions of the Scandinavian Peninsula, i.e. Härjedalen, Jämdand, Medelpad, and inner Trondelag, is debated.465 This is a region which was inhabited by the South Sami in historical times. A compromise view is suggested by Hansen and Olsen. According to this theory, the population who left behind graves in the fjelds (Norw.jjellgraver) was primarily mixed, differing to some extent from both the Germanic-speakers and the Sami and had become differentiated due to intense interaction with southern Scandi­ navia. There may have been more variation among Iron Age hunting groups in central Scandinavia than further north.466 Co-existence is also reflected in the genetic mixing and eventual assimilation which took place particularly in the border zones and which continues today. It seems that the Sami mixed less with those defined as ‘Germanic’ than with those defined as ‘Finns’.467 DNA studies show that the Sami are different from both speakers of other Finno-Ugric languages and speakers of Germanic languages, although there are significant similarities. Some results suggest that the Sami could be of European origin and thus perhaps have roots in the same population from which Germanic speakers later originated. There are also signs that the Sami population has stayed relatively similar in size for a long period and lived in the same area for thousands of years. The Sami are described as genetically “the most unique population in Europe”, although they share genetic markers with both European and Asian populations, and are more European than Asian.468 In the current scholarly debate about Sami background, ethnicity, and material culture, there are some scholars who draw conclusions based on a single discipline and others who adopt a multidisciplinary approach. Some of the most contested issues are related to the genetic and linguistic origins of the Sami and possible change of language. Ohthere’s account does not confirm this idea of a mixed population, but it cannot be said to contradict it, either, for the following text-critical 165 por the debate, see Odner 1983: 37-38, 74-77; Zachrisson et al. 1997: Baudou 2002; Welinder 2003. For ethnic developments on both sides of the central Scandinavian Peninsula, see Myhre 2003: 80. 166 Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 103-109. For a mixed Sami-Northmen population in 0sterdal, see Bergstol 2004. 167 Sammallahti 1989: 9-10. 168 Sajantila 2003 (quote p. 30); Savontaus 2000: 23; cf. Storli 1994: 115-116; Price 2002: 237; Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 44-45.

380 The North in the Old linglisb Orosius

reasons: 1) the account describes northern habitation in general terms rather than being exact; 2) the text does not explain northern settlement history; 3) there are several uncertainties about the production of the text There is a connection between identity and geography in the settle­ ment pattern described in Ohthere’s account and the Viking-Age archae­ ology of northern Norway. The distribution of settlements in the region had remained the same for a long time by Ohthere’s time, which would have resulted in some elements becoming institutionalized. The environ­ mental conditions and perceptions of certain places or landscapes would have contributed to the choice of settlement sites and excluded some environments that were deemed as unsuitable.469 The various populations practised the same economies, although the different aspects of the economies could have had varying significance for each group. This would have created a shared social context where existing knowledge of the land and sea was shared and acted upon. This exchange produced a ‘map of experience’ which functioned as a basis for the inhabitants’ relations to the land and sea. There is a strong conceptual link between environment and identity in the description of the Finnas and other northern groups. The Northmen, the Sami, and other groups would have understood their environment in the context of their social identity. Internal relations and the geography of the population may have been organized in a way that was quite different from modem conceptions. In addition to ethnicity, central issues related to the experience and structuring of space may have included kinship relations, hunting and fishing grounds, trade routes and, not least, mythical or shamanisric geography, such as ritual or sacrificial sites, sacred groves or the dwellings of subterranean beings, and holy lakes, mountain tops, and other prominent features in the landscape.470 Some places would have been avoided or approached only under certain conditions.

469 Cf. Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 79-80. 470 Cf. Brink 2001; Price 2002: 56-58, 64,243-246.

The Old Fnglish Orosius 381

On FinnaSy Feting and Finnar The OE name Finnas derives from ON (NWG) Finnr, pi. Finnar; which occurs in descriptions of the Sami in the sagas. In historical times, Finnr referred to the Sami and occasionally to the Finns. It is not out of the question that Ohthere’s Finnas would have included people who did not consider themselves Sami, but rather members of some other grouping. Discussion of the names Finnas and Finnr must consider the fact that name-giving involves a variety of matters: the name-giver’s approach and motivations, the environment or context where the name originates, and the relations between groups. Names may describe an ethnic group (ethnonym) or characterize an adaptation to a special form of subsistence, a particular behaviour, or an activity.471 It is interesting to see the variety of meanings which a term like Fenni has been given in secondary literature: - Sami in general472 - Sami in the Scandinavian Peninsula473 - Finns and Sami474 - Finns or Sami, or possibly both (particularly when both groups spoke related languages) in some part of present-day Finland475 - any mobile hunting population regardless of ethnic identity476 - the meaning varied in different texts.477

171 Cf. Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 45. 172 Koivulehto 1995b: 82. 473 Zachrisson et al. 1997: 158-166; Carpelan 1998: 84 (Sami in northern Sweden). 474 Wiklund (1948: 37) and Baudou (2001: 108) think that Fenni may have origin­ ally meant both the Finns and the Sami. In a thoughtful paper, Helle (1998: 239) translates Finnas as ‘the Finns or the Sami’, but does not discuss the name. 475 Much 1967: 533 (Sami in Finland in Tac. Germ. 46); Pekkanen 1984b: 230-240 (Sami); Burenhult 1999: 289-291 (Finns); Milan 2001: 98 (Sami); Itkonen 1959: 278 (both Finns and Sami); Grünthal 1997: 44-45 (both groups); Huurre 2000: 156 (Sami in central and northern Finland). There is some division along national and generational lines in these views, which represent only a very small selection of the research on Femi/Scridifinni/Finnr. 476 Wessen 1969: 35 (‘Nordic’, Finnish or Sami nomads). 177 Noreen 1920: 34 (Sami in Tacitus’s Germania and Ptolemy, Finns in Widsith, and hunter-gatherers in general in sources such as Jordanes’s Geticd)\ Much 1967: 527 (Finns or Sami in various texts); Svennung 1974: 132-142 (both meanings in different texts, but Sami in general or in Scandinavia).

382 The North in the Old English Orosius

The most common interpretation is that Fenni refers to the Sami. Thus, the Sami are considered as a distinct people during the Roman era and particularly in the Migration Period, although there is still uncertainty that Sami ethnicity had emerged by the appearance of the earliest sources on Fenni. Hansen and Olsen suggest that the first occurrence of Scridifinni in the sixth century coincides with the emergence of a distinct Sami ethnicity and knowledge of these people on the continent.478 A new name would have had a different reference in the mind of the name-giver. This theory may be correct, but the reference is not necessarily an ethnic differen­ tiation. The writers revitalize the theory that the new epithet attached to Fenni, ‘sliding, skiing’, distinguished the Sami from the Finns. However, it is odd that only the Sami would have been associated with skis, given that skis (and sledges) had been known since the Neolithic in Fennoscandia.479 This implies that Scridifinni describes a peculiar characteristic of the Fenni but says nothing about their identity. It cannot be deduced from the name whether they were more skilful than others in skiing. Skiing could have been simply connected with the traditional name for the northernmost known group. Fenni, Finnar; and Finnas are thought to be forms of a Germanic word, possibly originating from a Gothic and OHG verb *finþany ON finna, ‘to find, to look for, to wander’, and denoting ‘a gatherer who finds, a wanderer’.480 In this meaning, it is not clear whether the name referred to people who were defined linguistically or according to their subsistence method (nomadic or mobile way of life), or both. It is less likely that the name would denote all non-cultivating inhabitants of the (northernmost) North; instead, it would relate to the cultural or ethnic characterization of a specific population by the name-givers. The name may have developed early, but the Fenni probably never used it themselves. If the name originates from the verb ‘to find’, it may have denoted ‘path-finders’ and thus may communicate something about the relation­ ship between the Germanic-speaking name-givers and the ‘scouts’. 478 Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 134-135; cf. Carpelan 2006: 81. 479 Crumlin-Pedersen et al. 1993: 51; Huurre 2000: 59; Berg 2001: 345. There is rock art depicting a skier with a bow and arrow in Alta, Norway (Rask 2004: 34). 48° por etymology, see Itkonen 1959; de Vries 1962: 120-121; Wessen 1969: 33-35; Svennung 1974: 134-139; CoUinder 1980: 196; Grünthal 1997: 9-12,25-28, 31, 34, 46-47, 49-50. Alternative etymologies derive from words meaning ‘a fin", ‘fen, marshland’, or ‘summit’; see Koivulehto 1995b: 82-83. Bergsland (1975: 7) thinks there is no connection to the verb ‘to find’.

The Old English Orosius 383

Carpelan suggests that the name was already in use in the Bronze Age, when “Norse or Scandinavian” populations traded for furs and skins in northern and eastern Fennoscandia and needed guides and interpreters, people who could find the way on inland excursions. This interaction resulted in changes in the culture and ethnicity of the ‘scouts’, which came to signify Sami identity. According to Carpelan, in the north, the Fenni or Finnar were Sami, while in south-western Finland they were Finns, and international networks spread knowledge of them.481 Linguistic studies give some support to this theory. They suggest that between A.D. 300 and 800, i.e. at the time when Fenni and Scridifinni appear in literature, the Sami language on the Scandinavian Peninsula “fairly certainly” adopted Scandinavian loanwords. The existence of Proto-Scan­ dinavian loanwords in all known Sami dialects indicates that Proto-Sami did not break up until c. A.D. 800.482 The term Finnas in Ohthere’s account should not be translated ‘the Finns’ (Fi. suomalaiset), a mistake which still occurs in secondary litera­ ture.483 The first uses of the Germanic term Finns in this meaning, par­ ticularly in reference to south-western Finland (Finland Proper), are found in an eleventh-century runic inscription and in Latin sources of the fol­ lowing century.484 The Terünnas The only known occurrence of the name *Terfinnas is in Ohthere’s account, Terfinna land .485 It is also the earliest mention of a Sami sub­ 481 Carpelan 1998: 85; cf. Carpelan 2003: 25 (comments on Finnmark and Finnland). Carpelan’s theory about ‘path-finders’ in the early centuries of the 1st millennium A.D. is accepted by Hansen and Olsen 2004b: 130-131. 482 The split between Proto-Sami and Proto-Finnic probably took place some time in the 2nd millennium B.C. (Sammallahti 1985; Sammallahti 1989: 4-6; Kulonen 2005: 287). 483 For example, ‘Finns’ in Townend 2002: 242 and Cavill 2001: 92, although Cavill has Lapps’ in his translation of Ohthere’s account (pp. 271-273). 484 A now lost runic description (U582) from Uppland has the expressionfin*lonti, which may denote south-western Finland; see Wessén and Jansson 1946: 468-470; Larsson 1990: 87, 120, 141. Another, more recent inscription from Godand (LI 698) also mentions ‘Finland’; see liljegren 1833: 199; Jansson 1954: 48. For Latin sources, see Pekkanen 1984: 230. 485 In Örvar-Odds Saga (32,9) ON *Tyrfi-finnar or *Tyrvi-finnar may have a cormpt first element and be a reference to Terfinna.r, see Ross 1940: 27 n. 15; Egilsson and Jónsson 1966: 575.

384 The North in the Old English Orosius

group. The Terfinnas have a separate identity from other Finnas in Ohthere’s view, but they have similar sources of livelihood (hunting, fish­ ing, fowling), and they all make camps. The Tetfinnas were linguistically close to the Biarmians. Tetfinna land, ‘the land of the Ter Sami’, was somewhere along the route of Ohthere’s Arctic voyage. The element ter- is associated with the south-east of the Kola Peninsula, Russian Terskij beregn ‘the Ter Coast’ (Fi. Turjanmad), stretching from Sviatoi Nos or the Gorlo to the Warzuga River. The same element occurs in medieval Norwegian names for the region, Trinnes and Triancemi.486 The OE form probably derives from Ohthere’s usage, but we do not know from where he learnt the name. There is no mention of Ohthere actually meeting the Terfinnas. Loanword studies suggest that the Ter Sami probably existed in the ninth century, and that Ter-Sami-speakers moved to the area before they began to adopt Indo-European words.487 The differences between this and other Sami dialects are significant enough to give credit to Ohthere’s reference to the land of the Ter Sami. There was no homogeneous Sami language over the whole of the area where Sami groups lived during Ohthere’s time. The expression Tetfinna land does not refer to a country, but to a territory that Ohthere associated with the Ter Sami. The implication is that this territory was definable. The name may refer to the ecologically distinct region east of the Pasvik district, which in terms of species distri­ bution is an ecological boundary between Europe and Asia.488 This boundary may have resulted in cultural differences as early as the Neolithic, when the Kola Peninsula was already inhabited, but due to cli­ matic changes it moved slowly eastwards and reached Sviatoi Nos in the Middle Ages.489 486 For Ter- and the Ter Coast, see Storm 1894: 95; Vasmer 1922; Ross 1940: 2528; Kiparsky 1950: 73-74; Beigsland 1970: 388; Collinder 1980: 196. Werbart (2002: 136) proposes unconvincingly that Terfinnas is a collective name for various communities, such as the Karelians and the Russians. 487 Sammallahti 1989: 7-8; Sammallahti 2001: 413; cf. Aikio 2004: 26. 488 Simonsen 1981. Ice covers the sea east of Pasvik. 489 Gurina 1980; Gurina 1987. Odner relates triangular burial settings in stone and the large settlement sites of East Finnmark to the Tetfinnas. He defines the Terfinnas as non-Sami whose territory extended to the Kola Peninsula and whose differentiation was due to their eastern trade contacts (Odner 1983: 69-70, 81, 119; Odner 1985: 7, 29-30). Criticism of his theory has been put forward, how­

The Old "English Orosius 385

On the other hand, throughout prehistory Kola had close contacts with northern Norway as well as northern Finland. For instance, Neolithic house structures in Kola, rock art throughout northern Fennoscandia, and the occurrence of ritual stone structures, e.g. ‘labyrinths7, on the coast of Finnmark, in Kola, and in the White Sea suggest the existence of cultural features and spiritual beliefs that the populations shared.490 Gurina sees similarities across this large area as part of the general process of cultural development in the circumpolar region, but also as expressions of “a single ethnocultural area”, which she identifies with the Sami.491 Archaeologically, the Sami are thought to have lived in the Warzuga area since the eleventh century, and are known to have lived there since the thirteenth.492 However, the same places in the White Sea region were most likely also utilized by non-Sami groups. In historical times, the Kola Peninsula was inhabited by more than one Sami group; three Sami dialects are known from there— Kiidin, Ter, and Ackala Sami. The border of the Kiidin Sami was at Sviatoi Nos 493 Even though the Early Viking-Age archaeology of the Ter Coast is poorly understood, it is known that the region was connected to international trade routes in the Late Viking Age and the Middle Ages. It is likely that the Terfinnas lived further to the east than on the Varanger-Murman coast, given the location of the historical Ter Coast and the fact that they are mentioned in connection with the Biarmians. It seems logical that the author/Ohthere mentioned those Sami who lived closest to the Biarmians and who lived furthest from his home in order to describe in more detail the circumstances near or at the destination of Ohthere’s Arctic voyage, which was the northernmost point of the world. It has been suggested that Ohthere was on a tribute-collecting exped­ ition and fought with the Biarmians over the right to tax the Tefinnas.494 ever; see Bergsland and Olsen in Odner 1985:17-19, 24; Valtonen 1988: 83. 490 For Neolithic finds, see Schanche 2002; for the Sami in the White Sea region and stone ritual structures, see Manyukhin and Lobanova 2002; Martynov 2002; Olsen 2002 (Olsen believes the majority probably date from 1200-1600 rather than being prehistoric). 491 Gulina 1980: 36; Gurina 1987: 47 (quote). 492 Gurina 1980; Gurina 1984; Ovsyannikov 1984: 98, 103-106; Ovsyannikov 1994: 80, 84-86; Gutsol and Riabova 2002: 315 citing N. Gurina 1997; Olsen 2002: 43. 493 Itkonen 1968: 45. 194 Simonsen 1957: 15, 19; Binns 1980: 36.

386 The North in the Old English Orosius

This is very speculative but theoretically possible, since no specific loca­ tion is given for the Finnas who paid Ohthere and the Tetfinnas are said to have had the same occupations as the Finnas north of Ohthere’s home.

4*5. Cwenas on the northern border of Germania Locating the Cwenas and the Cwensæ Ohthere’s account gives a generally peaceful picture of life, and contacts between peoples appear to have been orderly. The only troublesome relations are those between the Northmen and the Cwenas, which was characterized by mutual raiding. After giving the dimensions of the highlands east of the Northmen, the author writes that on the other side of the peninsula, the Svear inhabit the southern part of the land and the northern part is Cwena land' Sometimes the Cwenas make raids on the Northmen over the highlands, and sometimes the Northmen on them. He further says that there are very large fresh-water lakes throughout the highlands, and that the Cwenas carry their small and very light boats overland to the lakes and from there make raids on the Northmen.495 There is no explicit motive for including the passage on the Cwenas in the account. It follows the inland topography of Norway and is given from the point of view of the Northmen and in relation to them. The passage explains life and activities in the highlands, but I believe that the underlying interest is in the Northmen’s life and geography, not the Cwenas. These few lines in Ohthere’s account and two references in the geo­ graphy of Germania bring the Cwenas into history for the first time. The extreme northern boundary of Germania lies ‘north as far as the ocean called Cwensci.496 To the north of the Svear on the other side of the wilderness is Cwenland. We do not know the source(s) of these references, but it is not inconceivable that Ohthere may have been one of them, regardless of whether his account was added to the text after the trans­ lation was finished.497 It is possible that the name of the sea and the terri­ tory were invented for the occasion, based on Ohthere’s references to the

495 OE Or. 15/31-38. 496 OE Or. 12/21-22: ...norþ op pone garsecg þe mon Cwensœ hat. The phrase can be compared with per litus septrentionalis oceanis in Europe in Orosius 1.2.52. Note that Ohthere’s account has no mention of Cwenas along the Arctic route. 497 This is suggested, e.g. by Jaakkola 1956: 308; Vahtola 1980: 466.

The Old English Orosius 387

Cwenas.4 see Enkvist 1972. 730 Reuter 1934: 6 n. 1; Korhammer 1985a: 264-268. 731 Binns 1980: 81. Bately (1980a: 182-183) suggests that in two cases, the terms of direction may have resulted from forgetfulness, with a long period of time having elapsed between the voyage and the accounting of it. However, whatever length of time had elapsed, it is most unlikely that Ohthere had forgotten the directions of such an important route. 732 Marcus 1953: 123; Korhammer 1985a: 260-262. Navigational methods were essentially environmental. For criticism of some suggested techniques, see Christensen 2000: 95-97; McGrail 2004: 222-223. 733 The ON term viku was a measure of the distance that could be rowed in two hours. One day at sea was 6 vikur^ c. 36 nm (67 km); see Flottum 2001: 390; cf. Falk 1912:16-17. 734 Marcus 1953: 119.

The Old 'English Orosius 453

speed to be expected from the ‘usual’ sort of ship in fair wind and sea conditions”.735 Flottum is the only commentator to suggest that the expressions dagas and on dagum gesiglan in Ohthere’s account correspond to two different ON units of distance. Dagas would have been used for sailing along the Norwegian coast or in familiar waters and on... dagum gesiglan for sailing outside ‘the north way’. Ohthere’s legs of three, four, and five days during the Arctic voyage would refer to distance and not to actual sailing time. The voyage would not necessarily have taken fifteen days, but would have covered a distance that was equivalent of three days in familiar waters and twelve days outside Northmen’s waters. The construction on... dagum gesiglan would have corresponded to c. 72 (75) nm/one day’s sailing. It would have been twice the length of one dag (c. 36 nm). According to Flottum, these distances are corroborated with ON and other evidence of the length of a day’s sailing.736 This is an interesting suggestion, but difficult to confirm. The phrases on prim dagum gesiglan, on feo m r dagum gesiglan, and o n fif dagum gesiglan may be conventional measures. The sentences containing them have a syntac­ tically similar structure: Ohthere travelled/sailed {paran/siglan) as far as he could sail in 3/4/5 days. The repetition of the verb ‘to sail’ may derive from the use of traditional seafaring terminology. However, the ex­ pression dagas occurs in the description of the voyage to Hedeby, which would have been outside Norway, which contradicts Flottum’s theory. Flottum assumes scribal interference at this point. The interference may not just have been an error; it is possible that the description of the voyages to Sciringes heal and Hedeby were recorded in a second interview or by a different scribe editing and translating in a different style, although the section may still contain traditional measures of time and distance, such as dagas or ‘one month’. Flottum’s theory that there were two expressions of distance in Ohthere’s account is not fully convincing, since he does not examine the textual contexts. In his study of Ohthere’s seafaring, Korhammer points out that “the term dag-siglan in MS. C. ...

...

735 McGrail 1987: 282. 736 Flottum 2001; for the use of degr in ON sailing descriptions, see also Falk 1912: 17-18; Korhammer 1985b: 161-162. Note that the OE verb gesiglan, ‘to sail, reach by sailing’, can be distinct from siglan, ‘to sail, be in the process of sailing’; see Roberts and Kay 1995, voi. 1: 326-327.

454 The North in the Old English Orosius

need not necessarily mean the same as degr-sigling”, but does not discuss the OE or ON phrases further.737 Acquiring knowledge and utilization of new territories was part of Northmen’s life.738 However, as discussed earlier, Ohthere’s Arctic voyage was most likely not the first of its kind by a Northman, and he was probably following instructions. In view of Ohthere’s unquestionable fa­ miliarity with the Norwegian coasdine, the repeated phrase ‘the land turned or the sea turned into the land, he did not know which’ seems strange. It is possible that Ohthere was crossing a large bay unknown to him. There are, however, more plausible explanations. Ohthere may not have known whether he had reached the extreme edge of the land, a detail which would have been of great interest to the interviewer or author.739 Alternatively, Nansen and Fell’s theory that the phrase was an attempt to explain fjords, which had no OE equivalent, is equally probable. Ohthere did not know whether he had come to the entrance of an enormous fjord or whether the mainland curved. This would mean that, if he reached the White Sea, he did not know that it was a bay surrounded by land,740 which I think is unlikely. The first landmark mentioned was the northernmost point that the whalers reached, which was presumably a recognizable place, and where Ohthere may have stopped.741 This place could have been somewhere on the islands near the North Cape. The voyage was probably made in late spring or early summer, when the northern coast of Norway and the White Sea were free from floating ice.742 The crew may have sailed during both the daytime and the light summer nights, or stopped at night.743 Even though the text repeatedly says that the open sea was to port, it is impossible to know whether Ohthere sailed some distance among the islands, at least as far as the North Cape, after which there are very few off-shore islands. 737 Korhammer 1985b: 170 n. 37. 738 Cf Hastrup 1998:116-117. 739 Bately 1980a: 183; Lund 1984a: 13. 749 Nansen 1911: 132 n. 1; Fell 1984: 57; Valtonen 1988: 62. 741 Korhammer 1985b: 169 n. 27. 742 For floating ice, see Gorsukov 1983: 151-152. 743 Simonsen (1957: 10-11) favours continuous sailing and Englert (2007: 125) more or less continuous sailing, but Binns (1980: 14) prefers the idea of nightstops.

The Old English Orosius 455

After six days, the land turned east; this could have been at the point such as Nordkinn, where the land visibly turns south-east. There, Ohthere waited for a suitable wind. A plausible interpretation of mstanmndes 7 hm n norpan is a west-north-west wind, or ‘a wind from the west and a little from the north’.744 Cardinal directions were freely combined to indicate intermediate directions in OE.745 However, wind directions are less freely described in the account than land directions, and follow a precise eightpoint system of orientation. A remarkable eastern surface current from the North Cape to Sviatoi Nos could have speeded up the sailing and may explain why a shorter distance was covered in the first six days that in the following leg of four.746 During the four-day leg, Ohthere sailed eastwards along the land. The term land’ presumably refers to the northern coast of the Kola Peninsula, which runs south-east; this true course is revealed by the wind direction west-north-west. After this, Ohthere waited for a northern wind, but this time the text uses the verb sceolde (past 3rd p. sg. of seulan,, ‘must, have to’), implying that he was forced to wait by circumstances, rather than choosing to as earlier.747 Oh there’s progress may have been hampered not just by the wind, but also by other weather conditions. There is evidence from other early medieval sources that it was common to wait for suitable winds.748 The Murman coast and the mouth of the White Sea are the cloudiest places in Russia. There are less than twenty clear days per year. Further­ more, fog and heavy rainfall in the spring and early summer hinder navi­ gation. The wind is generally north-westerly in the late spring and north­ erly, north-easterly, or easterly in the summer. Quick changes of the wind are a characteristic of the Kola Peninsula.749 It should be remembered, however, that the climate may have been slightly warmer at Ohthere’s time. There could have been also climatic blips of warmer or colder climate which cannot be discovered. The onset of a given climatic phase occurs in different regions of the Arctic at different times, particularly in

744 Cf. Swanton 1975: 33; Jones 1984: 159. 745 Derolez 1971: 263. 746 Binns 1980: 37. 747 OE Or. 14/14-15: Þa sceolde he beer bidan in comparison with he beer bad (14/13). Cf. Crumlin-Pedersen 1984: 32-33. 748 Elimers 1972: 251. 749 Granö 1921.

456 The North in the Old English Orosius

the case of short-term changes. Changes would have affected many para­ meters, such as ice conditions and the length of seasons.750 When the favourable north wind manifested and there was enough wind-room for easy sailing, Ohthere sailed southwards for five days. At the next waiting place, the land turned south. This place could have been any of a number of small capes and bays on the north-eastern coast of Kola, perhaps after Sviatoi Nos and between Mys Gorodetskiy and Mys Orlov, where the land curves south. Accessing the White Sea may have been somewhat difficult due to adverse currents, although at this point, currents and surface seas could have taken the ship south-west.751 As concluded above, the most likely destination of the voyage was a river in the south-eastern part of Kola. The fact that the coast there does not run south, but west or north-west, does not cancel out the rest of the description and its implications. There is no mention of a crossing of the White Sea and Ohthere sailed along the land all at all times. Assumptions of scribal errors, bad memory, or confusion are not necessary in this context. Following the coast was probably the most common method of sailing in the Viking Age: it requires no more navigation than to follow the land. It is also important to note that the directions of the wind and coast­ line given in the text may refer only to the directions at the time of de­ parture from the stopping-place and immediately afterwards.752 The seasonal exploitation of or visits to the northern Norwegian coast by inhabitants from Novgorod and modem Karelia may have influenced the known Norwegian voyages to the White Sea.753 These voyages were undertaken in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and although we can only assume that Ohthere’s voyage contributed to the opening up of old or new contacts for others, we can certainly say that it brought the northern edge of the world into recorded history. From home to the market There is a peculiarity at the beginning of the description of Ohthere’s second voyage, from his home to Sáringes heal' which can be explained by 750 Krupnik 1993:136. 751 Dinas 1980: 38; Crumlin-Pedersen 1984: 32-33. 752 This is implicit in some commentaries, but explicitly expressed by Korhammer 1985a: 261. Interestingly, Jackson (1998: 81) believes that Vinnmark and Bjarmaland in the ON sagas were understood as a continuum of Nordrvegr and part of Norwegian territory towards the north. 753 Amundsen et ai 2003: 97.

The Old English Orosius 457

assuming that this section of the account derives from a second interview or a second set of notes. The narrative uses the impersonal man, ‘one5, where the length and conditions of the voyage are mentioned. When the narrative turns to the sailing itself, it begins to use he, ‘he5. This means that we cannot be quite certain that the text at this point describes Ohthere’s own voyage; rather, it may give information about an average voyage along the Norwegian coast. The voyage is described in a different way to the Arctic voyage. The description mentions no subdivisions and fewer landmarks (16/3-9): it was impossible to sail to Sciringes heal in one month if one camped at night and had am bjme wind each day. Ohthere had to sail along the land the whole way. To his starboard is first Ireland, then the islands between Ireland and this land (i.e. Britain). Then this land (i.e. Britain) is there until he comes to Sdringes heal and Norðweg was to port the whole way. The meaning of am bjm e wind, ‘unfavourable or favourable wind5, is still disputed. Another problem in the same sentence adds to the difficulty: it is not certain whether the transcription man ne mihte was the author's original intention since the first letter of ne is in fact m, but has been altered to n in the manuscript.754 We do not know at what point and for what reason this alteration was carried out, and the transcription is not accepted by all commentators, although most acknowledge it.755 Whether we accept the reading man ne mihte or leave out the negative ne, there is still a problem in terms of understanding the sailing voyage if ambjr(e) means favourable, which has often been the preferred interpretation.756 There are four potential interpretations of am bjm e wind: 1-2) one could not sail to Sdringes heal in one month if one camped at night and each day had a favourable or unfavourable wind 754 OE Or. 16/4-5: Þjder he cwœð þœt man ne mihte geseghan on anum monðe, g y f man on niht wicode 7 œlce dœge hœfde ambjme wind, ‘There he said that it was not possible to sail in one month, if one camped at night and each day had ambjme wind’. 755 Valtonen 1988: 134-135. 756 Bammesberger 1983 (favourable), and references therein. Examples include Craigie 1923 unfavourable; Ekwall 1943: 276 favourable; Holthausen 1963: 3 unfavourable; Mossé 1945: 440 unfavourable; Binns 1980: 39 usable; Korhammer 1985b: 164 unfavourable; Roberts and Kay 1995, vol. 1: 20 favourable; Englert 2007: 123-125 favourable. Flottum (2001: 398, 404 n. 3) suggests that ne was a later addition and that OE bjr is related to ON bera, ‘carry forth’, and means ‘independent of wind’ in this context, i.e. Ohthere had to stop at nights and follow the shore regardless of the wind.

458 The North in the Old English Orosius

3-4) one could sail to Säringes heal in one month if one camped at night and each day had a.favourable or unfavourable wind. The first option is paradoxical and the third option, which leaves out the negative, is syntactically more acceptable than the fourth. Options 2 and 3 offer a choice between a negative or positive mode of expression. If one accepts the text as we have it, with a negation and no alteration to the syntax, its logical meaning is that Ohthere could not reach Säringes heal in one month if the wind was unfavourable. This curious expression may be the result of the interference of the interviewer or the author and an interest in the length of Norway rather than actual sailing process. As has become evident, there is very litde straightforward information given about seafaring in the accounts. The negative formulation may be a reply to a question enquiring how long it took to sail along ‘the north way’ to Säringes heal and whether it could be done in one month.757 The point of interest would have been the length of the voyage, not the conditions. However, ‘one month’ would have needed further explanation, which would have resulted in the curious sentence in the text. Both the inquiry and the explanation would have dealt with average time and distance.758759 Another meaning has been suggested for ambyr(e)y which occurs only once in OE; this meaning was suggested in the nineteenth century and accepted by some scholars, but has recently been discussed at length by Korhammer. The theory suggests that the word has an ON origin and derives from *and-byre, ON andvridi, ‘a head-wind’, Mnlce. andbyrr. This idea is considered possible but problematic, and Korhammer suggests an etymology which would lead to the meaning ‘something rising against something, something contrary’ for OE ambyreP The interpretation ‘unfavourable’ accords better with the ability of Viking-Age ships to sail speedily and with the wind on the beam, tacking

59

757 Fell 1984: 57-58. Fell accepts ‘favourable’ and assumes that the reply was that one could not do it in one month even if the wind was favourable. Cf. Korhammer 1985b: 152. Englert’s (2007: 124) preference for ‘favourable’ is based on pragmatic navigational insights rather than an examination of the narrative and its conventions. For instance, his hypothetical reconstructed question-reply dia­ logue leaves out textual considerations (pp. 117-118). 758 Adam of Bremen (4.21) quotes King of the Danes as saying that Nordmannia can be crossed in one month, but this statement may refer to land travel and the direction is not mentioned. For ‘a month’s food’ in the medieval leidung system of naval organization, see Flottum 2001: 398-399. 759 Korhammer 1985b.

The Old 'English Orosius 459

forward into the wind.760 The intended message may have been that one could not sail c. 1,000 nautical miles (nm) in 28 days if one was hampered by or had to stop due to unfavourable winds. This implies that the voyage lasted one month or less in good wind conditions, when sailing was continuous.761 Binns sensibly points out that the idea of favourable winds lasting for an entire month in the North Atlantic and North Sea is not realistic, and a sailor's aim was rather to avoid foul winds, sail with ‘usable’ winds, and be ready to overnight occasionally 762 The presumed starting place of the voyage was Oh there's home. He sailed along the coast with ealne m g on þ œ t bœcbord Nord weg, ‘all the way with Norway to port'. The expression ealne weg occurs three times in Ohthere's account and twice in Wulfs tan’s. Estimations of the length of the voyage vary according to the assumed point of departure. Most suggest a length of between c. 950 and c. 1,000 nm, while some propose 750 nm. Sug­ gestions for the length of a day’s sailing vary from 12 to 16 hours a day, unless the crew sailed day and night. The speed could have been well over 3 knots with favourable winds, but with foul winds or when slowed down by passage through islands, it may have averaged 2 to 2.5 knots. It was customary to navigate difficult waters by camping at night and sailing by day, although sailing within the archipelago was the most dangerous method to travel at sea.763 Clinker-built Viking ships had a high man­ oeuvrability and could land easily. Cargo carriers could travel at 6 to 8 knots under ideal conditions, with a maximum speed of 10-12 knots.764 According to Binns, the actual distance travelled during the voyage to Sciringes heal was less than on the open sea, but for a trading vessel, the

760 For these sailing capabilities, see Christensen 2000: 91. 761 Korhammer (1985b: 153, 155) notes that a month in ON had 28 days, not 30, and that this was apparently considered to be the normal limit. 762 Binns 1980: 39-40. 763 Ealne weg has the spatial and temporal meaning ‘the whole way, continuously' when it is used to answer the question ‘when’. A nautical mile = 1852 metres. For ealne weg, and a comparison of estimated distances and speeds, see Valtonen 1988: 124-125, 127-130, and references therein; Valtonen 1990: 207-208. Jesch (2001a: 166-171) describes ON references to anchoring and writes that night-stops may have involved camping on land or anchoring in sheltered spots. The crew could sleep on board the moving ship during continuous sailing. 764 Crumlin-Pedersen 1984: 33.

460 The North in the Old English Orosius

speed was about the same whether it was coasting or sailing on the open sea.765 Ohthere’s account states that while he was following the Norwegian coast, Ireland and then other islands were on the starboard side between Norway and Britain. The author’s intervention is noticeable in the phrase þissum lande, which means Britain, England, or Wessex, not Norway.766 Britain remained in the same nautical position in relation to Norway until Ohthere came to Säringes heal. ‘Other islands’ refers to the Orkneys or other North Adandc islands, and their position is given as it was under­ stood from a nautical perspective. The method of measuring progress by landmarks resembles the way that Wulfstan describes his voyage. The voyage to Hedeby The landmark method is again employed in the description of Ohthere’s third voyage, from Sdringes heal to Hedeby (see figure 5). This time, there is no mention of sea or wind conditions (16/12-20): Ohthere sailed from Sdringes heal to Hedeby in five days. When he sailed in that direction from Sdringes heal, he had Denemearc to port and the open sea to starboard for three days. Then, during two days before reaching Hedeby, he had Gotland, Sillende and many islands to starboard and to port he had those islands that belong to Denemearc The first leg of the voyage is clear enough: there was land on the left and the sea on the right. Depending on which route he chose during the last two days of the voyage, estimations of the total length of the voyage vary between 325 and 410 nm.767 We are not told whether Ohthere sailed continuously or landed at nights. There were many suitable sites for landing along the way, but, it is the opinion of most commentators that this voyage was most likely undertaken without regular night-stops and speedily in good conditions, unless the text describes an ideal voyage, with a speed of c. 3 to 6 knots.

.

765 Binns 1980: 86, 91. 766 Bately 1980a: 194. 767 For estimations and reconstructions, see Ekwall 1943: 280; Simonsen 1957: 11, 13; Ellmers 1972: 250; Binns 1980: 40-41; Jorgensen, O. 1985: 107-112; Korhammer 1985b: 159-160; McGrail 1987: 263; Engjert 2007: 119-121; cf. Valtonen 1988: 130-133. I agree with Westerdahl (1995: 221), who regards Crumlin-Pedersen’s (1984: 30-39) reconstruction more likely than SchnalTs (1981).

The OId English Orosius 461

The alternative routes Ohthere could have taken among the Danish islands are Öresund, Store Belt, or Lille Belt. The Öresund route is not favoured by many. The Lille Belt route is c. 25 nm longer than the Store Belt route, but the currents in Store Belt are more irregular. If Ohthere chose Store Belt, he had several options for how to navigate; for example, he could have sailed along the western or eastern side of the Belt and passed Langeland either on its east or west side. He also could have sailed east or west of the island of Æro and approached the Sli Fjord direcdy from the north. On the basis of the text rather than navigational issues, the Store Belt route seems more likely, since Ohthere had many islands (e.g. Samso, Funen, possibly Langeland, and Æro) on his right side. In this case, the islands that belonged to Denemearc would have inlcuded Zealand and Lolland. There are many fewer islands to starboard along the Lille Belt route. The Store Belt route is favoured by most commentators.768 The Sdringes Aaz/—Hedeby route (or the various alternative routes) would have been well-known in the ninth century. For instance, many soapstone finds have been discovered along the route from 0stfold along Halland and Bohuslän to Hedeby, and finds of ship cargoes on the eastern coast of Jutland attest to the existence of sea traffic.769 Ohthere probably memorized his route, since navigational knowledge would have been mostly oral and seamen had oral sea maps.770 Roesdahl suggests that trad­ ing voyages were made at regular intervals because of the high demand for furs and ivory.771 Jankuhn envisages Ohthere stopping at nights at safe and sheltered places, some of which would have been local markets where he could collect more goods or trade some of his own before arriving at the international market centre of Hedeby.772 There may not have been time to stop, however, since the voyage only took five days. Westerdahl thinks that the voyage from Sdringes heal to Hedeby reflects a Viking-Age transport zone in this area. Other such zones included ‘the 768 For Öresund, see Schnall 1981: 175-178 (based on the interpretation of Sillende as Zealand). For Store Belt, see Geidel 1904: 69; Malone 1930b: 161; K ilm ers 1972: 229; Bately 1980a: 196; Jorgensen, O. 1985: 112-113, 116; Korhammer 1985b: 160. For Lille Belt, see Ekblom 1939-1940: 188-190; Englert 2007: 120. For others, see Valtonen 1988: 132-133. 769 Müller-Wille et ai 2002: 24-25. 770 Overing and Osborn 1994: 10-11. The authors suggest various routes that Beowulf may have taken to Roskilde based on Ohthere’s route options (pp. 8-9). 771 Roesdahl 1991: 106. 772Jankuhn 1982.

462 The North in the Old English Orosius

Zavoloshe sub-Arctic’ in north-western Russia north of the portages (excluding the Arctic and White Sea coastlines). Another transport zone followed the coast of Norway, ‘the northern route’. Another interactive maritime space was the corridor that crossed the North Sea between Britain and western Norway. Westerdahl divides the Baltic into western, eastern, and southern zones, of which the last corresponds with Wulfstan’s voyage to Truso.113 Sailing to Truso Wulfstan left for Truso from the same town where Ohthere arrived, Hedeby. Sailing conditions in the Baltic Sea are different from those in the North Adantic. They are more favourable, with fairly stable winds during the sailing season. The coasts are setded and have natural harbours and many rivers are navigable, giving access to inland.7774 73 The route was less dangerous than routes such as Ohthere’s meandering course among the Danish islands.775 Wulfstan’s account gives only the most basic information about his voyage— the time, the method, and major landmarks (16/21-29, see figure 6): he travelled from Hedeby and reached Truso after seven days and nights, and the boat was running under sail the whole way. The land of the Wends was on his starboard side all the way until the mouth of the Vistula and to port were Langaland\Lœland, Falster; and Sconeg. Bornholm was ‘to our port’ and after Bornholm, there were Bleángaeg, Meore Rowland, and Gotland ‘to our port’. The narrative reflects spoken language in its usage of ‘us’, which indi­ cates that it is close to what Wulfstan actually said.776 The route is spatially and chronologically linear and directional. Most of the largest Baltic islands and the southernmost Svea territories are named as landmarks, which creates a mental chart, positioning the ship at sea with reference to known territories. It is difficult to think that anyone could have used the description of Wulfstan’s route as an accurate guide to the route. It is possible, however, that the route was so ancient that the mere mention of

,

773 Westerdahl 1995: 221-225. 774 Näsman 1992: 131. 775 Cf. Ulriksen 2004: 24. 776Jorgensen, O. (1985: 122-123) suggests that ‘us’ implies that Wulfstan was not the captain or did not own the ship, but was a member of the crew or a passen­ ger.

The Old English Orosius 463

some of the most prominent territorial names was sufficient to indicate i t 777 This schematic representation permits various reconstructions.778 Esti­ mations of the distance vary between 380 and 425 nm. Crumlin-Pedersen suggests that Wulfstan sailed along the south coast of the Baltic, but kept away from the shallowest coastal waters. The total distance of his re­ construction is 420 nm, and he estimates that the average speed was c. 2.5 knots.779 The text explicidy states that the ship was under sail all the way, which implies twenty-four-hour sailing. The text suggests that Bornholm was some kind of a real or conceptual mid-voyage turning point, since it marked a division between the Danish islands to port during the first half of the voyage and the Svea territories to starboard during the second half. This is why it is tempting to suggest that Wulfs tan’s actual route ran along the coasts of Bornholm and Scania before heading towards the Vistula Bay.780 This longer route may have been taken because it had a political advantage, i.e. local leaders afforded protection from pirates during the longest leg of the voyage. A voyage made in a replica of the Skuldelev 1 cargo-boat has shown that the de­ scription of Wulfstan’s voyage is plausible. The voyage in the replica Ottar between Hedeby and Gdansk was 390 nm long and took just over four days and three nights (c. 97 h) with a steady westerly wind. The travel speed was 3.6 knots. The longer route via Scania could have been completed in seven days unless Wulfstan’s vessel was slower than the replica.781 The short distance covered in seven days of continuous sailing has concerned some commentators, but the replica voyage encourages us

777 For Baltic routes, see Blomkvist 2005: 302. Binns (1980: 41-42) suggests that the seven sailing days coincide with the seven territories, since Wulfstan was measuring his progress eastward along the south coast of the Baltic by referring to the successive places he was south of. He thinks that Wulfstan learned about the Svea territories when he sailed to Birka. Binns counts Blecingaeg and Meore as one territory, which undermines his theory. 778 For estimates, see Ekwall 1943: 280; Ellmers 1972: 250; Binns 1980: 41-42, 91; Crumlin-Pedersen 1984: 39-41; Korhammer 1985b: 159; McGrail 1987: 263. 779 Crumlin-Pedersen 1984: 39-42. Binns (1980: 41) suggests that Wulfstan sailed in a heavier and slower vessel, perhaps resembling Frisian boats. 780 Englert and Ossowski 2005. I disagree with the suggestion that islands on the Wendish coast are not mentioned because Wulfstan, Alfred, or the scribe could not remember them. 781 Englert and Ossowski 2005.

464 The North in the Old English Orosius

to believe that, if Wulfstan sailed along the southern coast of the Baltic, he actually had bad conditions or the weather was calm at times.782 Ships at sea It is a great paradox that, although the accounts are the earliest and best literary descriptions of sea voyages in the North, present the North from a maritime perspective, and attest to the skilful seamanship of the inhabitants, they mention the word scip, ‘ship’, only once. Wulfstan’s ac­ count states that his ship was running under sail, but that is all we are told of the vessel. Nevertheless, scip does occur in Ohthere’s account in the compound sdprapas, ‘ship-ropes’. Ropes are also mentioned in a few other OE texts, and were a crucial element in ship-building.783 The accounts contain no reflections of the ancient ship symbolism which can be found in depictions of boats in rock art, ship-formed stone settings, burials or cremations in boats, and ship scenes on picture stones and runestones. The peoples of the North Sea and Baltic littoral had shared this symbolism for centuries, and over most of the region for millennia, particularly in a funerary context.784 Nor are there any negative allegories, descriptions of the sea as a divine, perilous, or fearsome space, or mentions of the excitement of sailing, as are found in ancient nonChristian or early Christian literature, such as the OE poems The Seafarer and Andreas. The accounts also lack any of the obvious mythical or ritual connotations that the sea, waterways, and marine mammals had in the North.785 It is evident that the author’s focus in the accounts is not the sea, naval power, or sailing but on the lands and their inhabitants, and the resources and customs that the sea voyages enabled Ohthere and Wulfstan to view. A typical feature of itinerary description in the accounts is that we are only told of outward voyages, and are not told whether Ohthere’s voyages were continuous or whether they were made at different times. The likelihood is that neither man was on his first voyage out to sea and far away. Ohthere’s voyages were long, and he sailed in different climates and 782 For a foul wind, see McGrail 1987: 263, and for changes in the wind or calms, see Binns 1980: 91; Crumlin-Pedersen 1984: 39;Korhammer 1985b: 161. 783 For sdprapas, see Thier 2002: 83-86,143. 784 For ship symbolism, see Varenius 1992; Crumlin-Pedersen and Munch Thye 1995. 785 For sea symbolism, see Dronke 1997 (in OE poetry, pp. 22-24); Westerdahl 2005.

The Old English Orosius 465

along different coastlines, which would have required experience. For in­ stance, the distance between northern Norway and Hedeby was about the same as that between Denmark and the Mediterranean.786 We can only speculate what kind of ships Ohthere and Wulfstan sailed in. It is generally accepted that Ohthere and his crew sailed in a cargoship, of the type that is known as a knarr in ON sagas, because he presumably transported goods.787 These bulky cargo carries could take loads weighing between 15 and 60 tons, and it is believed that they began to be built in western and southern Scandinavia in the ninth century, or c. 800.788 At this point in time, the volume of trade in commodities and agricultural products increased enormously, and this growth reflects the lucrative nature of the trade.789 One of the boats which were found in a barrier on the bed of the Roskilde Fjord in Denmark, Skuldelev 1 (built in western Norway, most likely in the 1030s), is often suggested as a model for Ohthere’s vessel. It was a small overseas merchant ship, 16 m long, and it could carry heavy loads of up to 24 tons. Its origin and repairs that had been made on it suggest that it was used for transport into and out of Norway and for Baltic trade. It would have needed a minimum crew of seven or eight men.790 Viking-Age ships were of various types and sizes. Skuldelev 3 was a smaller coastal or inter-island carrier (dated to c. 1040, 14 m long, with a capacity for a cargo of 4.6 tons), and could have transported relatively expensive goods.791 Ohthere may have had a variety of ships for different purposes, and his ship for the voyages south could have been even bigger than Skuldelev 1, perhaps the size of the cargo-ship found at Hedeby, Hedeby 3 (built c. 1025, 22 m long), which could carry a maximum cargo of 60 tons and cross oceans,792 although there is no evidence for such big 786 For the length comparison, see Birkebæk 2003:152. 787Jesch 2001a: 128-132. Jesch (2005: 127) questions the meaning of knarr before the first attestation of the term, but concludes that it probably referred to a ship that could be used either for trading or raiding voyages (at least in Sweden), but was later similar to the Gokstad ship (built c. 815-820) and Skuldelev 1. 788 Crumlin-Pedersen 1999: 15-19. 789Jensen 1990: 132-135. 790 For the Skuldelev finds, see Crumlin-Pedersen et al 2002. 791 For luxury goods, see Crumlin-Pedersen 1991: 75; for inter-island ships, see McGrail 2004: 229. 792 For the idea of several ships, see Eldjarn 1995: 28-29; for Hedeby 3, see

466 The North in the Old Engäsb Orosius

cargo carriers in the mid-ninth century. Another possibility is that Ohthere sailed in a non-specialized ship, such as the Klástad ship from Vestfold (990-1000, c. 21 m long). Such ships, which may have been used as burial ships in Vestfold (see the ships from Gokstad, Oseberg, and Tune), could have been used for various purposes as occasion demanded.793 Two ships have been found in North Norway, both dated to around Ohthere’s lifetime. One of them is the Bárset boat which is a small ship from the island of North Kvaloya near Tromso. The boat is estimated to have been 12-15 m long, had 18 oars, and has been given a preliminary date of 850-900.794 It may have been placed in a bog as an offering, but it is not known whether it had a sail and whether its construction was influ­ enced by either Sami or Scandinavian traditions. It may have been used for hunting and trading voyages.795 On the other hand, the Oksnes boat (8-10 m) from Skogsoya, Lofoten, is thought to have been built by the Sami and has been dated to the eighth or ninth century.796 In addition to boats, other large constructions related to seafaring are also known in the North. Hundreds of ship-shelters (Norw. nausi) have been found at setdement sites, particularly in Norway, where wall struc­ tures have left traces at sites such as Borg. These can be as long as 40 m and date from various times from the first millennium to the end of the Middle Ages. They are concentrated around administrative centres and probably indicate chiefdom divisions.797 A Viking-Age harbour complex in Norway was recendy found at Fánestangen in Frosta, near Trondheim, and may date to c. 1000.798 As for Wulfs tan, it is possible that he was involved in trade and travelled in a cargo ship. Crumlin-Pedersen has suggested that Wulfstan most likely travelled in a Slav cargo carrier 799 Alternatively, the ship could have been a Slavic variant on a Scandinavian ship.800 It is possible that Crumlin-Pedersen 1999:12,18. 793 McGrail 2004: 217,222; cf. Christensen 2000: 89-90; Christensen 2003. 794 Sjovold 1974: 355-356; Pedersen 2002; Wickler 2002. Further research and a replica of the Bárset ship are forthcoming. 795 Bratrein 1989:175. 796 Westerdahl 1996; Pedersen 2003, as cited by Bertelsen 2005: 446. For ships in rock art, see pp. 397-398 in this study. 797 Myhre 1997. 798 NRK Trendelag News, 5 March 2004. 799 Crumlin-Pedersen 1984: 39. 800 McGrail 2004: 218.

The Old English Orosius 467

some Danish ship-building was carried out by the Wends. There is a find of a ninth-century cargo carrier of Slavic type in the harbour of Ralswiek, on the island of Rügen, Germany (Ralswiek 4, 12-13 m long, 10 oars, cargo of 4-5 tons), and another find of a similar type of vessel in Szczecin (Stettin), Poland (built 834-841, c. 8 m long).801 There are only a few Anglo-Saxon ship finds to date from Britain, but they and other evidence (linguistic terminology, textual references, e.g. the A SC and the laws, manuscript illuminations, coins, and graffiti) show that ships and seamanship were central to Anglo-Saxon culture and that the population was involved with ships and nautical matters.802 Water trans­ port was clearly important, since early Anglo-Saxon settlements are usually situated on or near waterways.803 The most well-known archaeological examples of Anglo-Saxon ships are the ships in the burials in Sutton Hoo Mound 1 (c. 625, c. 27 m long, 28 or 40 oars, estimated speed of 10 knots if the ship had a sail), and Mound 2 (c. 600, c. 12-20 m long). Two dug-outs and one ship have been found buried at Snape (Snape 1, c. 600, only clenchnails survived, c. 14 m), and a heavily built sea-going cargo carrier designed for coastal waters at Graveney, Kent (built 875-900, c. 14 m long). The Giffords’ studies and voyages in replicas or scale models have led them to conclude that there was continuity in ship-building in south-eastern England.804 Ship designs were fully developed, and Anglo-Saxon ships could have been used to attack pirates and capture Viking ships. Years of encounters with the Vikings would have meant that the techniques and capabilities of Viking ships were familiar in the ninth century.805 801 Crumlin-Pedersen 1999: 12; Barford 2001: 169. 802 Haywood 1991: 54-76 (for naval activities and piracy on the eady AngloSaxons mirroring those of the Vikings, see pp. 61-62); Carver 1995; Hutchinson 1999. Thier (2002: 164-187) has catalogued all finds to date of any remains of boats from the British Isles. Of the seventy-two entries, less than ten are from England and dated to the Anglo-Saxon period. A recent metal-detector find from Yorkshire may have uncovered the first boat-burial in England from the late ninth century. The finds from this site include personal items, nails (c. 130), weights, and coins (Alfred pennies and possibly a coin from Baghdad) which suggest the burial of a trader. See BBC News, 17 Feb 2004. 803 Gifford 1999: 86. 804 Gifford 1995; Gifford 2003. For criticism of conclusions about full-sized boats drawn based on the performance of scale models, see McGrail 2004: 212, for Graveney, see pp. 218-220. 805 Hutchinson 1999: 420.

468 The North in the Old English Orosius

King Alfred had experience of naval matters even before the recording of his interest in ship-building in the ASC entry for 896.806 He had personally fought at sea twice, according to records—in 875 he fought seven ships and captured one, and in 882 he fought against four Viking longships, capturing two of them.807 Alfred had long had an interest in naval defence, and the Viking maritime threat led him to build a fleet of longships’ twice as long as the Viking ships, with 60 or more oars. The chronicler says that Alfred’s ships were not of Danish or Frisian design, but swifter, higher, and more stable. A hypothetical Alfredian longship, according to the Giffords, would be 37 m long and carry 140 men. It would be, fast with a speed of 12 knots when sailing and 7 knots under oar. A fleet of such ships would have defended the coasts effectively.808 Alfred probably studied captured Viking ships, which were not yet as long as they later became (e.g. the Hedeby 1 ship, dated c. 985, c. 31 m long, 60 oars). He may have combined elements from these and other designs for his purpose, which was to fight the Vikings with ships superior to theirs, although perhaps only in coastal waters and not on the open sea.809 It was only in the tenth century that the English navy developed into a dominant military force, but Alfred may have introduced a special­ ized clinker-built longship into naval warfare in the North Sea, although how exacdy the exchange of information on ship-building around the North Sea took place is still uncertain.810 The term longship was not a technical term, and did not have any special Scandinavian connection. It

806ASC 897 (= 896). 807 ASC 875, 882. For Alfred’s naval defence, see Abels 1998: 171-174, 305-307. The ASC records only four sea battles in the 9th century, of which three involved Alfred. Alfred’s eldest brother Æthelstan commanded a fleet in 851 and captured nine ships. For ships, see also Keynes and Lapidge 1983: 211, 289-291. For an interpretation of Alfred’s ship-building as an “impracticable experiment which resulted in disaster”, see Smyth 1995:112-113. 808 Gifford 2003: 284-288. For less manoeuvrability than speed in Alfred’s ships, see Abels 1998: 306; Swanton 1999. Swanton thinks Alfred’s ships were for de­ fence in home waters, and presents a vivid picture of international sea traffic at the time. 809 Abels 2003: 278. The whole of Alfred’s defensive system in the 880s and 890s was designed to defend against simultaneous attacks by different Viking military groups. 810 Cf. Crumlin-Pedersen et ai 2002: 326.

The Old English Orosius 469

could be used of any kind of ship in ON (langskip), as long as it was long.811 The court that Ohthere and Wulfstan probably visited would thus not have been ignorant of seafaring, even if the visits took place early in Alfred’s reign. We can assume a hypothetical setting where coastal guards could tell easily from Ohthere’s and Wulfstan’s cargo carriers that they were not enemies. However, the men’s ships and seafaring techniques were of less interest to the author of the OE O k than the men’s cargo. In the end the most valuable and durable goods freighted to Alfred’s court in those ships were not of the material kind, but in the form of stories from the remote comers of Germania.

4.8. Conclusions: the geography of lands, peoples, and resources The space of wealth and rank The travel accounts of Ohthere and Wulfstan are historical sources, although a fully reliable interpretation from a historical viewpoint will always remain impossible. However, future archaeological and philological research will reduce some of the remaining gaps in our knowledge of northern economy and settlement and the nature of the gafol (tribute), the extent of Danish power, the meaning of ambyme wind, and the extent of Estland. The acceptance of some details as historically reliable and others as errors or inaccuracies is problematic in secondary literature if error evaluation is based on the assumption that the author, the informants, or the scribes confused what they wrote, said, heard, or copied. Sometimes the disciplinary background or nationality of commentators influences their interpretations. For instance, Norwegian scholars generally regard the accounts as historical sources, while the few doubts on the matter have been expressed by continental European textual scholars. The accounts are eye-witness reports which are situated within a written tradition. The mention of King Alfred sets a temporal and spatial context for Ohthere’s account. Much of the report is about how to acquire wealth and possessions, and about half of Wulfstan’s account is about how to distribute them after death. The accounts have geographical links with each other and with the description of Germania.

811Jesch 2001 a: 123.

470 The North in the Old 'English Orosius

Ohthere’s account focuses on aspects of the life of the highest-ranking people, explaining the sources of his wealth and status, and on how far the land extends to the north. Viking-Age chieftains in Scandinavia were prosperous, and in northern Norway, chieftains’ wealth was to a certain extent based on their ability to extract payments from the Sami. The mention of the highest-ranking Sami (individual or siidd) and the list of some of the most valuable Arctic products also emphasize an interest in elites. The statement that Ohthere’s wealth was based on wild animals is followed by references to reindeer. Wealth of this kind did not occur in England, and had to be explained to the audience. That is why the author applies an instructive tone, and includes explanatory comments and new vocabulary. Ohthere’s account does not explicidy illuminate the nature of the rela­ tions between the Northmen and the Sami in the ninth century, although the definition of the tribute payment suggests that the relations were old, the payment had been negotiated, and that the Sami engaged in hunting and gathering for the payment, i.e. worked for the Northmen in some way, possibly in exchange for services, products, or access to information about other practices, ideas, or places. The subsistence of the Northmen and the Sami were intertwined and mobility, seasonality, and long dis­ tances characterized life in the North. The name or exact location of Ohthere’s home would have been meaningless in a context where his achievements, skills, and knowledge were given centre stage. Intellectually and economically, he was a suitable person to be interviewed and to meet his lord’ King Alfred. The account introduces the lifestyle of a northern leader, a free man, who was an hon­ ourable and authoritative figure to an audience which was presumably of the same status. Wulfstan’s account reflects similar values. Although it does not de­ scribe Wulfstan, he was probably also a person of high status, by birth, acquired wealth, or both. Both he and Ohthere had access to the highest ranks in the communities they visited. It is logical, then, that the social focus in Wulfstan’s account is on the elite and their customs, skills, and possessions. The references to the horse race and the Este beverages reveal the existence of a hierarchical society in Estland. Topics familiar or interesting to the Anglo-Saxons, such as tribal relations, seafaring, gift-giving, horses, the homeland in Angeln, the Danes, drinking customs, the relationship between a lord and a visitor, and conduct among foreigners, would have evoked images, memories, or

The Old English Orosius 471

thoughts, and contributed to the creation of a certain frame of mind for the understanding of the world and its history. The oral tones, anglicized words, and topics that involve a dialogue between the known and the unknown generate a sense of place which is included, not excluded, in the Anglo-Saxon geographical imagination.812 It is interesting that there is an emphasis on peaceful relations in several instances: between Ohthere and Alfred, Ohthere and the Biarmians, and the Northmen and the Sami. All is not calm, however, since there is conflict in the far north between the Cwenas and the Northmen, and in the far east of Germania among the Este. Nevertheless, relative peace and calm are heavily implied. The impression that emerges from the accounts is hardly one of criti­ cism. Despite the uncertainties concerning the sources, the dating, and the potentially complex authorship of the travel accounts and the OE Or., the work can be associated with the educational campaign of King Alfred. It presumably reflects the court’s or the king’s interest in lands in northern­ most Germania. Pagan people are given their own voice and sometimes the information is given in their own words and from their own per­ spective, albeit edited and translated. Ohthere may have been interviewed twice, or his interview may have been recorded by two different scribes. The end results for the most part correlate with archaeological or other historical evidence. The geographical approach In order to describe the geography of the North and the Baltic, I apply here concepts that derive from modern geography. There is not yet an established method or terminology for the study of an early medieval geographical text.813 This gives us an opportunity to see whether modern categories can illuminate the accounts as geographical narratives and answer some questions about the nature of the geography contained within them. This is a way to test viewpoints and possibly help to under­ stand something of the differences or similarities between early medieval and modem geographical conceptions. Modem commentators should, however, use caution in the application of their concepts or abstractions to an early medieval mindset.814 There is a danger of projecting modem attitudes on medieval authors. 812 Gilles (1998: 91-95) has made the same observation about inclusion, but de­ scribes it from a different perspective. 813 Cf. Harrison 1998: 8, 21, 50. 814 Such concepts include the medieval West, backwardness, accuracy, and

472 The North in the Old English Orosius

My assumption is that the author(s) of the travel accounts was/were aware of his/their subject matter, made efforts to understand it correcdy, and focused only on a selection of topics relating to geography and aristocratic life. In their contemporary context, the accounts were prob­ ably understood to be geographical in the medieval sense, i.e. discussing the God-created world. From a modem perspective, the travel accounts are geographically significant in a number of ways: 1) The main source of the OE translation, Orosius’s History,, and particularly its geographical introduction, was the most influential geographical text of its time and for several hundred years afterwards in Western Europe. Orosian geography was descriptive both in its original and vernacular versions. 2) The most significant changes in the OE version, i.e. the geography of Germania and the travel accounts, are composed almost exclusively of original geographical knowledge. 3) The perspective of the author is geographical when he looks at the North from another place and from a distance, from Britain. 4) The author is trying to make sense of places by answering geographical questions, such as how people live and how far the land reaches, who fives there, and how long the distances between places are. The author also explains why the places are distinctive to some extent, although he does not address why some things are found there rather than elsewhere or how these places influence other places on the Earth. These hows and whys are at the core of modem geographical inquiry.815 Geography studies the relations between society and the natural en­ vironment, and what occurs as a result of this interaction, both in the environment and in human culture. From this perspective, the infor­ mation in the travel accounts represents both physical and human geo­ graphy. They also have political and economic geographical contents, which are closely connected.816 Many pieces of information can be as­ peripheral areas. 815 De Blij and Murphy 2003: 6. 816 Political and economic geography are sub-fields of human geography, which is also called cultural geography. For studies defining and discussing modern geography, see Lefebvre 1991; Gregory 1994; Yaeger 1996b; Agnew et ai 1997; Peet 1998; Gren and Hallin 2003.

The Old English Orosius 473

signed to more than one category when they are analyzed from various perspectives. Physical geography Physical geography describes the Earth, the physical world (places, lands, natural environments), its phenomena (e.g. directions, climate), and its inhabitants, fauna and flora.817 The travel accounts include information from all these categories; for example, they discuss islands, rivers, seas, lakes, and sea and land animals (domesticated and wild). Descriptions of wind directions and direction of the mainland, distances along sailing routes, and boundaries of habitation further explain the physical environment. The most detailed information concerns sailing routes, the topography of the Vistula delta, and the width of the Northmen’s settle­ ments and the Scandinavian highlands. Inhabited territories are given special attention in both accounts. Natural watersheds, although not men­ tioned, divide populations in the Scandinavian highlands and the Vistula delta. The physical geography in the accounts concentrates on coastal regions from a maritime point of view. Seas are thus important, although they are not described in detail. Seafaring forms the backdrop, which creates a constant interaction between sea and land. Human geography Human geography deals with people and their environment in terms of the political, economic, cultural, and social aspects of life.818 The accounts do not explicitly explain why people live, farm, or hunt where they do, but they describe something about the interrelationship between Earth and man, such as the habitats of various groups, their customs (e.g. social structures), and their livelihood. There is no explanation as to how these may be related to policies or institutions, but there are references to other aspects of human geography, such as language, identity and ethnicity, religious rituals (but no beliefs), settlement patterns (e.g. references to ports and settled land), subsistence methods, transportation, and con­ nections between places. The human geography in the accounts helps to understand something about the relationship between the inhabitants and

817 Goudie 2000. 818 Johnston 2005b. This field has close connections with anthropology, ethno­ logy, and archaeology.

474 The North in the Old Engksb Orosius

their environment in daily life. Human geography is given at least as much emphasis in the accounts as physical geography. Ohthere’s and to a lesser extent Wulfstan’s account imply the existence of versatile and presumably mutually beneficial relationships between peoples. The geographical range of these peoples as defined by the text in general correspond with contemporary reality, as far as we know. The actual and accurate ethnic composition or subdivision of the population in the ninth century cannot be established on the basis of the OE Or. There may have been more local variants of any given culture than are described in the text. In terms of dominant groups, today there still are uncertainties about which territories the Danes, the Svear and the Northmen occupied in the Early Viking Age. There was no one homogeneous or coherent ‘culture’ in Scandinavia in the Viking Age,819 as is sometimes presumed. However, it is reasonable to assume that peoples shared cultural features and must have had some sense of belonging to a world of shared ideas, values, and history. Interaction between regions between which people, goods, and information moved would have also contributed to the perception of a single geographical entity which corresponded with the northern and north-eastern edge of Germania. The destinations of the two travellers’ voyages were in the far comers of this area and the sojourns in these places provided more new knowledge than the visits to the centre of the area (the Danish lands). Ohthere’s account responds to two inquiries in particular: how to access the natural resources of the North, and who had access to them. There are two episodes in the account which illuminate problems in interaction and the use of resources. Ohthere and his crew’s cautious behaviour towards the Biarmians is an indicator of potential conflict over the exploitation of some of the most valuable resources, i.e. the walrus. The second episode deals with the attacks by Cwenas and the Northmen on each other, and reveals that there was aggressive tension in or near the Sami habitats where some of the tribute payment must have originated. In Wulfstan’s account, it is possible to see the description of the Vistula delta as a general guide to help sailors avoid getting lost, running aground, or landing in hostile territory when approaching Truso from the sea. In addition to references to transport, which is typical of human geography, the account includes characterizations of the Este society. There is a reference to social instability among the people, but otherwise 819 Svanberg 2003, Part 1: 101-102.

The Old English Orosius 475

Estland is a communal place, alive with movement and events which relate to rituals. Besides social categories (kings, powerful men, the poor, slaves), the Este were composed of various groups, one of which specialized in cold storage and possibly also in the preservation of the dead. Economic geography Economic geography is represented in the accounts in a number of direct and indirect references to subsistence methods and resources and their production: farming, catde-keeping, whale- and walrus-hunting, the hunting of fur animals, the gathering of eggs and feathers, the catching and ‘selling’ of reindeer, and the payment of tribute. Arrangements for tribute payment would have been of interest to an early medieval royal house. Trade is implied, for instance, by the mentions of places that have been identified as trading centres and the descriptions of known trade routes. Other than these references, the accounts do not confirm the dynamism of the northern fur trade. There is, however, a reference to the use of furs in clothing (a coat of bear or otter skin). The descriptions of the distribution of a deceased man’s property in Estland and Ohthere’s gift of walrus tusks to Alfred provide information about economic infrastructures. In Estland,\inheritance depended not on kin relationships but on swift horses and riding skills. Ohthere’s wealth, on the other hand, depended on the Sami, which is why most of the eco­ nomic geography in his account is related to this topic. In turn, it is pos­ sible that Alfred and his courtiers depended on Ohthere and other traders for their northern luxuries and even for ropes for ships. The references to Alfred and the Sami tribute allude to the importance of social relations in production and exchange. The information about production and access to resources suggest that the inhabitants of the North were relatively affluent, skilled in the use of natural resources, and organized in the production, preparation, and transportation of goods. It is clear that there was interaction between geographical regions. Arctic production systems were part of larger trade and exchange networks. Political geography Both accounts reveal some aspects of political geography, i.e. who held power or dominion in the relationships between society and the natural environment It is possible to detect geographical factors involved in politics and political factors involved in geography, e.g. core-periphery relationships, boundaries, conflict and war, social control, ethnic minor­

476 The North in the Old English Orosius

ities, and various other relationships between territories and political strat­ egies.820 These are not expressed explicidy in the text, but still yield a number of items for consideration. At the outset, there is a power relation between England, which from the author’s perspective and approach is the core, and the North, which is the periphery. A few references in Ohthere’s account imply that the North was seen as peripheral, but these are very subde and do not characterize all the description of the region. These references are: Alfred is Ohthere’s ‘lord’, Ohthere owned ‘not more than’ twenty heads of various livestock, and he ploughed ‘only a litde’ land. Teripherialization’ is a process whereby a certain space is constructed not as an ‘equal partner’ of other members of economic or ideological networks, but instead as a member on terms that are somehow unfavourable; perhaps the space is exploited, a subject of expansionist aims, or neglected.821 This kind of overly critical or hostile peripherialization is not evident in the narrative. In purely spatial terms, a centre-periphery relationship can be detected within the North. Ohthere’s home is a centre, and all the regions along his Arctic voyage are peripheral to him. Estland is large and has many setdements, and is located somewhere along the periphery. Sciringes heal, Hedeby, and Truso are local centres, given that they are points of arrival, departure, and observation. The use of political power in the processes of production is not expli­ cidy expressed.822 Nevertheless, it is likely that the knowledge possessed by Ohthere because of his status (e.g. how to access resources) also bestowed political power. The existence of political and social hierarchies is clearly indicated in the references to kings (Alfred, a king of Bornholm, king in each town in Estland), chieftains, men of high rank (Ohthere, other foremost men in Halgoland, powerful men in Estland, the highest-ranking Sami), and slaves in Estland. The description of the elite burial rite of the Este deals not only with the distribution of wealth but also that of power. The attribution of territories to various groups reflects political relations and geographical divisions.823 In the Early Middle Ages, priority was given to group organization over territorial organization, i.e. groups

820 Cf. Taylor 1994; De Blij and Murphy 2003: R-25; Taylor 2005. 821 Cf. Taylor 1994: 18-19. 822 Cf. Taylor 1994: 38. 823 A space which is occupied by a person or thing, is one of the cornerstones of political geography; see Duncan 2005.

The Old English Orosius 477

constituted space more often than space constituted groups.824 No ex­ planation of the political power relations is given in the accounts but tribal geography is explicit in them and in the description of Germania. The northernmost lands and groups— the Northmen, the Svear, the Danes, the Cwenas, and the Sami—are mentioned in both the description of Germania and in Ohthere’s account, which places a double emphasis on the meaningfulness of the information. The author comments on the location of Angeln and the Angles’ original territories, i.e. Jutland, Sillende, and many islands, saying that they were on Ohthere’s starboard side during the last two days of his voyage to Hedeby. The mention of an ancestral homeland can be ideologically motivated. The precise meaning of scir, ‘district’, used of Heligoland', is uncertain, although it may refer to an administrative unit and imply that somebody was in charge of it. The apparently independent position of Bornholm and the Danes’ control over Hedeby are referenced in brief statements. The naming of places is connected with ethnic differentiation and the cultural dominance of various groups, but names do not explain the ethnic identities of all groups. The geographical location of the referents of sev­ eral ethnically-derived compound names in the accounts are not known for certain; these include Cmna land, Terfinna land Estland,\ Weonodland, Nordmanna land, and S m o land. These names probably do not refer to political unities, but to spaces where groups had their primary settlements. In some cases, this may coincide with the space where the group in question was political dominant, as in the case of Burgenda land (Born­ holm). Other place-names mentioned may have a long history: Falster,; Sconeg, Sillende, Gotland Eangaland Exland, Meore, Rowland, Halgoland Ira land, Ilfing, and Wisle. Language sometimes distinguishes between occupiers of places, as in the case of the Terfinnas and the Biarmians. The political unity of Nordweg and Denemearc is ambiguous. In the OE Or., Denemearc appears not to refer to a state or a clearly defined political unity, but possibly to more or less independent Danish regions, which were based on personal relations between subjects and rulers, and where the regional magnates had power and the king was primus inter pares ,825 It is still perplexing why the author uses the term Denemearc to refer to the islands east of Jutland and the south-western coast of Sweden but uses

,

,

,

,

824 Kleinschmidt 2000: 36. The change into territorial space took place between the 12th and 15thcenturies (p. 61). 825 Näsman 2000: 41-42.

478 The North in the Old English Orosius

terms Gotland, Sillende, and ‘many islands’, to refer to regions west of Denemearc The use of the term Norðrng does not suggest a sense of political unity. It is considered perplexing that Ohthere’s account has no reference to his alleged contemporary King Harold Fairhair who, according to ON sources, united Norway politically at the end of the ninth century. Ohthere’s account gives no information about Harold’s existence or rule, the position of northern Norway in the unification process, or whether chieftains were politically and economically independent opponents of Harold or in some kind of agreement with his politics. We cannot be even certain that Ohthere was Harold’s contemporary. The account is un­ helpful for dating the batde of Hafrsfjord, for instance, because it makes no clear statement about who controlled Säringes heal However, it does state that Denemearc was south of this port and the geographical accuracy of the passage suggests that the political attribution is reliable. The author gives a generally peaceful picture of the Northmen’s life, which may theoretically correspond to the real political situation at Ohthere’s time, but is more probably a reflection of his or the author’s expectations or intentions. According to other sources, the late ninth cen­ tury was not a peaceful time in Britain or in Norway. Northern Norway was a politically powerful region in the Viking Age, and had a central role in supplying the best furs and skins as well as ivory and whale-bone for exchange.826 These circumstances may have contributed to the confidence which is reflected in the fact that southern Norway has no other role in the narrative except to provide a stopping place for Ohthere. On the other hand, the emphasis on the orderly representation of northern Norway may equally well derive from Anglo-Saxon intervention or from the geographical subject matter of the introductory chapter, which would not have been a proper context for an examination of Anglo-Saxon and Viking relations. Finally, the redefinition of the boundaries of the known world is understood to be an ideologically charged change of the existing world­ view. The OE O r redefines and shifts the northern edge in three ways: 1) The northern border of Germania is named as the northernmost sea, Cwensœ, in the geographical introduction, and the new northernmost territorial names in Ohthere’s account are Halgoland,\ Crnna land, and Terfinna land.

.

826Johnsen 1934: 129; Nielssen 1995: 41-47.

The Old English Orosius 479

2) Ohthere’s account describes the terrestrial boundaries of the North. It gives specific details about seas, lands, and peoples and names many of them. Naming produces spaces, makes them familiar, and creates historical significance. The recording of the life, nature, and names of the northern edge was a step towards establishing a shared view of this space.827 It is significant that several group-names and place-names from the North occur for the first time in the OE Or. 3) Ohthere’s Arctic voyage changed his own knowledge of the northernmost lands, which, as is specifically mentioned, he wanted to see himself. Indirectly, his experience also changed the knowledge of others. Consequently, the northern edge was no longer a classical, theoretical or mythical space in Anglo-Saxon literature, but was known through personal experience that had been recorded in history.

827 For the theoretical concepts, see Tilley 1994:18-19; Hastrup 1998:112.

5. GEOGRAPHICAL NARRATIVE OF THE NORTH AND THE ALFREDIAN CONTEXT

5.1. The North as a geographical narrative On geographical narratives In this chapter I shall discuss the travel accounts of Ohthere and Wulfstan as a single geographical narrative, at first, by examining the composition of their geography, and, secondly, by considering them in their Alfredian context. Even though the travel accounts derive from the observations and knowledge of the two travellers, ultimately they are created by the author, and his training and cultural and political context influence the outcome, which is left for the reader to interpret. Both literary historians and geographers are concerned with the construction of space and its relation to the world around it, and both acknowledge that modern cer­ tainties of order or cohesion cannot be forced onto the medieval material. Yet, we can say that the North in the OE Or. resembles a reconstructed world where there are different levels of space, e.g. real, applied, textual, imagined, or selected.1 At the outset, we must consider the double structure of space in the representation, even though the two layers cannot be fully distinguished from each other.2 These layers are: 1) the story space, i.e. the subject and the time of its discussion, in this case northern Germania in the ninth century 2) the discourse space, i.e. the place and time where the stories were recorded, which is England, the author’s environment, and the intellectual space of the Alfredian period. In the story space the focus is on where and what who lives where, and what has been seen and experienced where. The framing of the space of the accounts has already begun in the description of Germania, which uses a catalogue style to provide an almost complete spatial and ethnic setting for the accounts which give more information about the northern­ most Germani and which shifts the margins of Germania further north 1 Cf. Zoran 1984: 319-320. 2 Cf. Herman 1999: 22.

The Alfredian Context 481

and north-east. Wulfs tan’s account describes the eastern margins, but contains no explicit references to a new geographical frontier. There are two fundamental styles of thinking that are used in order to make sense of the world—story-telling, and logical or classificatory thinking.3 Both can be detected in early medieval geography, and both are present in the description of the North in the OE Or.: the geography of Germania classifies places and groups in a catalogue, and the travel ac­ counts are stories. The former follows the tradition of encyclopaedic theoretical geographical knowledge, and the latter belong to the category of descriptive geography based on empirical observation. The language of the narrative creates the space in various ways. Linguistic methods in a geographical narrative are inseparable from spatial conceptions. There are various spatial references in the travel accounts which show how the process of space production occurs.4 First, there is a deictic shift, in which the author focuses initially on the here and now, i.e. Wessex and King Alfred’s time, and then shifts the attention to the there and then, i.e. the Northmen’s land and other distant places. Secondly, named lands, territories, and places occur throughout the accounts, along with landmarks and routes. Furthermore, some of the spatial elements are inherent in the environment, while others depend on the viewer. For in­ stance, it is a geographical fact that the setded and cultivated land of the Northmen was long and narrow and there were large lakes in the high­ lands. On the other hand, most details in the route descriptions are given from a specific perspective. Fourthly, verbs of motion, such as ‘sail’, reveal the speaker’s per­ spective on events and places, give a direction, and chart movements between two spatial reference points. Other examples of such verbs are ‘carry’ (the boats of the Cwenas), ‘cross’ (the width of highlands), and ‘ride’ (the horse race). The storylines in the accounts depend on the routes taken by the voyagers and their maritime perspective. One of the spatialization methods in Ohthere’s account is the use of the adverb þ a 9 ‘then’, which creates a temporal sequence in the description of Ohthere’s first two voyages, but also shifts the focus by separating viewpoints.5 Finally, spatial adverbs, phrases (e.g. northwards, wider, all the way), and prepositions trace movements, directions, and distances.

3 Herman 2000. 4 Spatial perceptions here are based on Herman 1999: 21. 5 For þa to shift focus, see Bauschatz 1982: 134.

482 The North in the Old English Orosius Geographical foci There are three detectable areas of focus in the accounts: 1) the northernmost region which is related to the Northmen's world, 2) the Danish lands, and 3) the lands of and surrounding the Este, i.e. the south­ ern Baltic. The idea of three geographical foci is based on the content of the narrative itself and my discussions in earlier chapters of ancient and early medieval sources in which authors paid attention to particular areas of the northern parts of the world as meaningful spaces in geographical knowledge and imagination. In addition to an association of the foci with one dominant ethnicity, the narrative also describes three central places and the described space is characterized by movement. The three geographical foci can also be identified by the representation of their physical geography: highlands, coastlands, and setdement patterns known by the Northmen, islands and mainlands of the Danes, and a delta, setdements, and a ritual space of the Este. The focus on three ethnicities is reminiscent of the use of pivotal groups in the rest of the geographical introduction to the OE Or. The tri­ bal geography in the accounts ties in with the way that land and people are linked, which is a descriptive method which follows naturally from setde­ ment patterns, particularly given that tribes tend to setde areas which are defined by natural boundaries.6 The relationship between lands and peoples is mediated through Anglo-Saxon conceptions and beliefs, how­ ever, and only selected elements are brought together. Nevertheless, real geography lies behind the narrative. It is tempting to name the foci Nordweg, Denemearc, and Estland, since these names are given in the accounts. However, because the division is a methodological aid in the discussion of the geographical meanings of the narrative, the equations would not be fitting.7 The three foci represent 6 For the settling of naturally defined areas, see Näsman 2000: 45-46. 7 Neither manuscript shows attempts to organize the travel accounts into sections; in each case the script is continuous, without interruptions or line breaks. Various editors have imposed paragraph divisions, however: Pauli 10, Bosworth 11, Sweet 10, and Bately (who creates large topical units) 8. The differences include Thorpe’s paragraph break at the point when Ohthere says that he had Denmark on his left when he sailed forward from Säringes heal\ i.e. when Denmark is first mentioned (OE Or. 16/15-16). The editors’ choices are based on different criteria from my analysis, however, and their divisions are not meaning­ ful in this context See Thorpe 1853: 248-256; Bosworth 1859:18-23; Sweet 1883: 17-21; Bately 1980a: 13-18.

The Alfredian Context 483

Anglo-Saxon approaches towards the northern parts of the world in this particular narrative.89 My argument is that the meanings of these focus areas in an Anglo-Saxon context can be associated with geographical and ethnographic knowledge and imagination and that they also contributed to the intellectual definitions of the North and Britain. Identity in a geographical narrative can be manifested in different ways, e.g. by de­ scribing control of the land, death rituals, and in the mentions of names. A description of a pagan space is one of the most prominent ways to define identity. The North in the OE Or. is such a space: it has not yet been turned into divine geography although it is already included within God’s Earth in the translation of Orosius’s History? There are three perceptions of the space described: those of the informants, the author, and the reader. The perspectives differ and help to find meanings, some of which may or may not correspond to the authorial intentions.10 The first geographical focus is the space which was under the control or influence of the Northmen, or which was within their reach in inland and along Nordmg. The representation of this space begins with the introduction of Ohthere and the fixing of his geographical origin. This area of focus extends as far as the land of the Tetfinnas and to the river where Ohthere met the Biarmians. The Cwenas and the Sami are brought into the Northmen’s sphere of influence by describing them from a Northman’s viewpoint. The Northmen’s space ends in the south at the point where Ohthere leaves Säringes heal for Hedeby (16/9), and inter­

8 There are other ways to describe the geography of the accounts; for example, one could call it regional topography or chorography, which would echo the ancient Greek geographical division of space into region, place, and locality. Näsman (1999b: 170) has distinguished cultural regions and early state modules (Da. stammeriger) c. A.D. 500. His map includes an early state comprising Denmark and south-western Sweden, the ‘South Scandinavia" module. The ‘South Baltic" module comprises south-eastern Sweden, Gotland, Öland, and the south-eastern Baltic. Näsman points out that the term Germanic does not correspond with the model; connections reflected in the material culture do not match linguistic borders. The division in Näsman"s map matches the three geographical foci in the description of the North in the OE Or. Were these areas distinguished in the geographical consciousness of northern Europeans? Other modules, according to Näsman, were ‘North Baltic", ‘North Bothnian", and ‘North Scandinavian". 9 For descriptions of Christian and sacred landscapes and the idea of devastated wilderness that could be transformed, see Howe, J. 2002: 213-214,217. 10 Cf. Gregory 1994:146.

484 The North in the Old English Orosius

estingly, where the last word of the final sentence in this section of the narrative is Nordweg. Sea routes and coasdands were accessible to Oh there as a Northman, but those places that could not be approached without risk or which were temporarily inhabited are specifically mentioned. Ohthere’s geographical knowledge ends when he meets the Biarmians. However, the Biarmians told stories about their lands, which Ohthere did not see. This comment implies that the Northmen could expand their world beyond that of Ohthere. Ohthere’s search for the northern edge corresponds with the author’s interest in the northern margin of Germania. The narrative re­ veals that the northern margin of the world is accessible, but not without risks. The kind of supra-regional communication that Ohthere was engaged in was an integrated part of elite behaviour at the time.11 His home was a base for his activities and a starting point for his voyages and thus be­ comes a focal point in the mental image which the narrative evokes.12 Another central place, Sdringes heal has a symbolic value as a port, a trading place where paths meets, and where the northernmost and previously unrecorded North is linked with the southern Scandinavia and the more familiar Danish lands. Secondly, geographical emphasis in the narrative is placed on the lands which were subject to the Danes or part of Denemearc. Their description begins at 16/9 (Wið suþati) in Ohthere’s account, and ends in Wulfs tan’s account, after the description of the Danish landmarks along the route to Truso (16/25). The narrative in Ohthere’s account changes into a more impersonal and neutral mode when the description of the Danish territories begins, and the same style continues in Wulfstan’s account. The change in Ohthere’s account may result from the notes having been recorded by a different scribe. 11 Cf. Näsman 2000: 46. 12 Mental images are not created using all topographical details, but from selected landmarks, regions, peoples, and routes. The term ‘mental image’ is preferable to ‘mental map’, since the latter is a modem concept. Cognitive representations of places can vary widely even among the inhabitants of a single place or region. The mental process of constructing maps is not well-known, and it is not clear whether medieval and modern people conceptualized them in a similar way. Nevertheless, both ‘mental image’ and ‘mental map’ are useful for referring to the mental configurations associated with orientation, way-finding, and the structure of space. See Gren and Hallin 2003:129,221; Ley 2005.

The Alfredian Context 485

The focus on the Danish lands ends at the point where the word Denemearc is mentioned, as if to conclude the description in the previous few sentences. The placement of this name correlates curiously with the occurrence of N ordmg in the narrative. The significance of the Danes is reinforced by the references to the North and South Danes as pivotal groups in the geography of Germania. This section of the narrative contains only minimal information about of physical geography and none about the lives of the Danes. The refer­ ence to Angeln is probably connected to the author’s and audience’s prior knowledge of Angeln and the Danes. The absence of explanatory details is also most likely due to familiarity with the Danes. It is not inconceivable that some information about the Danish territories came from sources other than the two travellers. In any case, the lands of the Danes are cognitively central, as key elements intersect there, i.e. the informants, the voyages, the past and the present, and the familiar and the unknown. The third geographical focus in the narrative is on the southern Baltic in Wulfstan’s account. It begins with information about Bornholm, the lands of the Svear, and Wendland (16/25-29). These territories do not have a prominent position, and can be seen as providing the geographical co-ordinates of non-Danish landmarks along the sea route between Hedeby and Truso. The distinctive geographical location of Bornholm in the middle of the Baltic Sea may have been part of the reason for the mention of its political circumstances and also for its pivotal function in the geography of Germania. The description of the topography of the Vistula delta gives the south­ ern Baltic a geographically unique character. The narrative is lively, de­ scribing peoples and their activities creating a social space where rules and rituals govern elite behaviour. Truso is the central place of this region and Hstland is situated east of it. The horse race and the cremation take place in a setting of roads and distances outside a settlement, which lends the narrative a sense of movement similar to that created by the description of sea voyages. Estland becomes effectively a stadium for a horse race. Besides providing geographical information, Wulfstan is in many ways not unlike an ethnographic field-worker illuminating the lives of the pagan Este. Viewpoints None of the above geographical foci represent totally new spaces in a general sense in Anglo-Saxon literary culture, where it was known that an

486 The North in the Old English Orosius

ocean bordered the northern edge of the world and the Vikings came from the lands of both the Northmen and the Danes, and that the Danes lived in the Anglo-Saxon ancestral lands, and where there was an interest in the Goths, who were associated with the Vistula. What was new was the way and context in which the northern geography was produced. The North was perceived in a new setting. The voyages were not innovative, but rather led to something innovative: a new description of the North incorporated into Christian world history. Any description of space evokes more than one perception of it. The informants, the author, and the reader each had or have their own per­ ceptions of the North. I call these perceptions viewpoints. The interplay between observation and interpretation, between the various viewpoints, and between oral and written forms of expression give the narrative meaning. The relationships between inside and outside, idea and repre­ sentation, depend on the cultural and historical contexts of the view­ points.13 The production and interpretation of a space are never ‘innocent’, since they are always tied to an ideological context in any given society at any given time. The author and the reader pay attention to order, patterns, or systems of signifiers (e.g. codes) in order to make a geographical narrative meaningful. This order is transient or illusionary, however, since it is subject to an individual’s interpretation.14 The concentric viewpoints on the North include the insider viewpoints of Ohthere and Wulfs tan and the outsider viewpoints of the author and the reader.15 Due to the interaction between these inside and outside perceptions, the North differs not only in the viewpoint applied to it, but also in the viewpoint within it. The insiders had access and a real con­ nection to the North, but the outsiders scan and objectify it from a chronological and spatial distance. All viewpoints naturally distance the viewers from the subject. When a description of a Viking-Age North is viewed in a twenty-first century context, it complicates the interpretation but may also illuminate it in a new way. A total separation of layered viewpoints is impossible, particu­ larly since all involve a degree of interpretation, and only parts of the ninth-century perspectives can be recovered. 13 Hirsch 1995: 23. 14 For seeing, encoding, interpreting, and producing space, see Duncan 1990: 4, 182; Gregory 1994: 16, 298. 15 For layers in viewpoints, see Duncan and Duncan 1988:120.

The Alfredian Context 487

Insiders: the informants The first viewpoint is that of Ohthere and Wulfstan. Assuming that they are historical figures, their relationship with the places and territories they inhabited, visited or knew of was real. What they saw became a geo­ graphical reality to them. Ohthere’s and Wulfstan’s viewpoints are those of two insiders.16 The North is described from within by people who come from there and give an account of it in another place. The insiders make the North real by revealing it: places are habitable, seas are navigable, and territories and peoples have names. The impression is of an accessible space which is connected to Britain at the highest political level by the mention of King Alfred. The insider viewpoint is essentially related to the historical evaluation of the text and is the only way to get close to the insiders’ experience. Even though the historical interpretation shows a very high degree of reliability, it is difficult to know how accurately the text reproduces the men’s observations and interpretations. The accounts have lost much of their orality due to textualization, but the travellers seem to retain their own voices occasionally. Some statements read like replies to questions and other features (the pronoun us., repetitions, a desire for accuracy, anglicizations) indicate also careful reproduction. Yet, it must always be remembered that the accounts are not the author’s interpretation of northern lands, but his interpretations of Ohthere’s and Wulfs tan’s de­ scriptions of these lands. It is obvious that only a very small part of all the knowledge of these two men ultimately survives in the OE Or. One general approach in early medieval geography was the main­ tenance or reverence of past authorities and the preservation of inherited knowledge; the collection of encyclopaedic scholarship was more import­ ant than observation.17 In the travel accounts, the insiders have authority over what they empirically knew and had seen. In fact, there are a couple of references to seeing in Ohthere’s account. This visual mode is also reflected in the descriptions of the shape of land. The route descriptions are also reminiscent of a visual memorization of itineraries. There are no explicit references to visual observation in Wulfstan’s account, which is why it is unclear which places and events Wulfstan actually witnessed personally.

16 For insiders and outsiders, see Duncan 1990: 18; Hirsch 1995: 13-16, 22. 17 Kimble 1938: 42-43.

488 The North in the Old English Orosius

From the insiders’ viewpoint, the North is not merely a passive object, but also an active subject, since it shapes or influences the insiders’ experi­ ences. To them the land is the knowledge of it, how it provides them with life and resources, how to move about, and how to interact with other peoples. Ohthere’s and Wulfs tan’s lives are voyages, distances, contacts, and networks on different scales. Their knowledge both proves and be­ comes part of their identity. Outsiders: the author and the reader The authorship of the accounts and the OE Or. is a complicated issue. The authorial status of the translator is difficult to assess and consequently the word "author’ may refer to different people in different contexts. The author’s perception of the North is based on his interpretation or recreation of his sources, i.e. his imagination. The intentions of the author derive from personal or collective judgement and the ideological frame­ work of the Alfredian period. From this viewpoint, the North is a cultural artefact, which is objectified. The outsider’s viewpoint is (near-)contemporary with the insiders’ viewpoint,18 and his perspective is from Britain throughout the narrative. He functions as a mediator between the experi­ ence of the travellers and the reader. The references to the king in Ohthere’s account are the only anchors that allow the audience, then or now, to establish the context within which to interpret the narrative.19 King Alfred is named as the receiver of Ohthere’s information. In this narrative, the king embarks on a vernacular tour of northern Europe and is the first known outsider to visualize the North through the oral report(s), although nothing can be known of his visual thinking. He was not only presented with a gift but also with a new viewpoint on the North. From this double perspective, Alfred is con­ stantly present as an onlooker, outside and in the background of the pri­ mary space.20 18 The concepts of microcosmos and macrocosmos should be mentioned in connection with the viewpoints. The microcosmos is local, empirical, and ethno­ centric knowledge of the environment. The macrocosmos is a cosmological cat­ egory which includes God, religion, myths, and man. Ohthere’s and Wulfstan’s accounts take place in their respective micro-spaces. These spaces are within the author’s macro-space, a world which extended outside his sphere of experience. Cf. Harrison 1998: 49-55. 19 For anchors, see Herman 2000. 20 The positioning of Alfred in relation to knowledge, ideas, and values in the

The Alfredian Context 489

The OE Or. was most likely part of Alfred’s educational campaign and the travel accounts suited its aims: knowledge was transmitted and recorded in the vernacular. The cultural filter imposed by translation of names and expressions was another mental journey of the mind to the northern world by the author and the reader. The attempts to solve cultural differences and translation issues reflect the seriousness of the undertaking and the desire to understand the information.21 The function and structure of geography change in response to the shifting desires of society.22 As discussed earlier, geographical knowledge has social, economic, and political contexts. The incorporation of the North into the known world changed the Anglo-Saxons’ geographical conception of their own place in the world. In the OE Or., Ohthere’s and Wulfstan’s local geography met the global geography of Orosius. This intersection enlarged the geographical imagination of the audience and entwined the lives of Anglo-Saxons with the lives of the inhabitants of the North. The description of the North in the OE Or. positioned Britain firmly within the South and Christendom. The gap that Britain’s intellectual shift from north to south had left was now filled. Furthermore, the integration of the North brought it closer to a Christian worldview in the OE Or. The North, Britain, and God’s Earth existed at the same time in the same universe before the eyes of God and King Alfred. The fact that Britain and the North shared the same mental space and that protagonists from both places were involved in gift exchange brought the places and the characters close to each other. It is significant that the narrative does not hesitate in making a link between Ohthere and Alfred. The spatial equa­

sources of his reign has been examined by Pratt (2007a), who discusses the aspects of performance, theatricality, and imaginative reading in Alfredian trans­ lations. With regard to seeing, there is a reference to vision in the Soliloquies (p. 97), which reflects Alfred’s personal appreciation both of seeing something per­ sonally and hearing or reading about it. Alfred says that there is a difference between seeing a thing and being told about it. He knows who built Rome, but he did not witness it. Nelson (1997b: 148; 156 n. 46) points out that Augustine’s ori­ ginal point in this sentence was that knowledge can come from sources other than direct experience; Alfred takes this on board, but adds an allusion to his own visit to Rome. Alfred may be referring to the fact that he had just missed seeing a modern timbering of Rome. 21 This is acknowledged in ethnographic studies, see McGrane 1989:123. 22 Agnew etal. 1997b: 21.

490 The North in the Old English Orosius

tion of the North and Britain in universal terms, the generally peaceful image given of the North, the focus on wealth, rank and resources, and the references to Alfred imply that, from the author’s viewpoint, the North was had similar qualities to Britain rather than that it was a totally different place. In order to make a space into any kind of political or cultural reality, or for it to have a geographical identity, a sufficient number of people need to know what it consists of. The fact that the OE Or. gives the North a voice of its own, albeit an edited and translated one, was already a challenge to tradition. Another challenge was the absence of symbolism in the narrative. The European medieval conception of space as symbolic, mythical, sacred, sanctified, ritual, anthropomorphic, hierarchical, or cosmological is not reflected in the accounts. Foreignness was associated with strangeness in Western Christendom, but there are no allusions to idealistic or utopian places or mythical monsters or marvels, which were common in other ancient and medieval descriptions of the margins of the world.23 The only system for making sense of the places of man and the North in the universe is the Christian context of Orosius and the sym­ bolism that this provides. The closest the narrative comes to describing something incompre­ hensible is during the description of the furthest destinations of the voy­ ages, but the phenomena described here are explained and not threatening (e.g. walrus, reindeer). The Este death rituals and other customs have nothing mythical about them, and there is no comment about their reli­ gious context. Uninhabited places are not savagely described and there is no allusion to sacred geography. The northern world is not beyond every­ day experience or embedded within foreign cosmology, nor is it drawn from earlier sources. Any influential traditions about northern lands and peoples that the author(s) of the accounts might have known had little direct impact on how exactly the North was represented with the excep­ tion of some place- and group-names which are known from earlier de­ scriptions of the North. One explanation for the absence of anything grotesque or marvellous may be the audience’s familiarity with some parts of the North. In add­ ition to deriving from ancestral myths, knowledge of northern peoples

23 For the marvellous and the monstrous, see Le Goff 1988: 27-44; Simek 1992; Simek 1996: 82-97.

The Alfredian Context 491

must have spread in many ways before and during Alfred’s time. It is significant that the North is nearby and not on the other side of the world. Christian thought can explain some of the motivation for the inclusion and factual presentation of the North in the OE Or. In the early medieval period, Christianity was primarily textual. Christian textual contexts created spaces and their vocabulary, and guaranteed that they would endure. The geographical narratives of Christian authors were rich in meaning, but poorer in empirical data than non-Christian geography.24 Morals and formulations were created to fit spiritual truth into geography, but these approaches were not employed in the travel accounts. The author and audience of the OE Or. were Christians and the North was pagan, but the narrative contains no religious rhetoric or Christian God to polemicize the situation. The reason for this may not be the decline of theology as the source of explanations of the natural or known world, but probably the fact that the Anglo-Saxon perspective was close to the North both geographically, historically, and politically. The depiction of monsters and savages in the North, an area which included the Anglo-Saxon ances­ tral lands, would have dehumanized it and been a challenge to Christian ideology, Orosian geography, and possibly Alfredian ideology. The medieval attachment of theology to geography is deployed in a subde way through the context and the absence of critical evaluation of the pagan North. The North is connected with the Christian God and his divine order of the world simply by the fact that it is inserted into the OE Or. The Earth and all its creatures, including northern peoples, are God’s creations. Anderson writes about the “impulse towards conversion” among clas­ sical communities where Latin was the universal medium through which the rest of the world was imagined, converted, or absorbed.25 In the OE Or., however, the vernacular is the new language, the new medium, through which to imagine the world. In a textual context, the North in the OE Or. merges with the rest of the world and creates an image of a shared universal community. Any kind of polemic would have highlighted the differences between the North and the Christian world and would have

24 Campbell 1988: 54-55; Lefebvre 1991: 44. Campbell has noted that literary accounts of travels preserved the pagan and secular aspects of their appeal better than any other literary form. This may have been intentionally utilized in some contexts, such as the Alfredian educational campaign. 25 Anderson 1998: 15.

492 The North in the Old English Orosius

separated the North from the teleological and universal history of Orosius and the equally teleological past of the Anglo-Saxons.26 With regard to the other outsider’s, i.e. the reader’s, viewpoint, nothing is known of the response to the text of the near-contemporary audience or later copyists of the accounts. The few alterations and the form eastland in the manuscripts are not informative enough to draw definite conclu­ sions on the thinking of later scribe(s).27 The most passionate reader reaction that is known is the one that motivated the removal of the folios containing most of Ohthere’s account and the whole of Wulfs tan’s ac­ count in the Lauderdale manuscript some time before the seventeenth century, but the purpose of this act remains a mystery. The viewpoints presented here overlap. Those of the author and reader coincide in particular, since they are both outsiders to North in terms of time, cultural context, and often also place and because the reader also interprets the author’s voice. A reader’s viewpoint is from the present into the past. Each reader recreates the space from a subjective perspective by asking questions about its meanings and content and by inferring subtexts that lie beyond the visible text. In order to get closer to the meaning of a narrative, an interpreter must study the context of the text. This has been done in the previous chapters, which means that all discussion in this study, in fact, is from the reader’s viewpoint. However, no matter how comprehensively or specifically the narrative is analyzed, an academic approach is faced with the hermeneutic problem of the interpreter deciding what the text signified to those who produced it based on his modem theoretical categories, while still trying to maintain the critical distance of an outsider.28 The travel accounts can be interpreted in many ways. A geographical inquiry focuses on the Earth’s features, how people used the Earth’s surface, what patterns can be found, and what happens in the environ­ ment. Another kind of spatial inquiry might assess relationships among phenomena in the same place and how ideological, cultural, and economic elements work together to create cultural landscapes. Literary or philolo26 For polemic and difference, see Marincola 1997: 237. For teleology in the Anglo-Saxon perception of Britain’s history, see Howe 1989; Howe 2004; Howe 2005. 27 The alterations include two erasures of a stroke of the m of Beormas (OE Or. 14/24, 30), and alteration of me to ne (16/4). Estland and Estum are the editors’ forms of eastlande and eastum (16/34; 17/1,34). 28 Cf. Duncan 1990:14,17.

The Alfredian Context 493

gical analyses find meanings in the context of other linguistic or textual materials. A historical interpretation evaluates the historical reliability of the narrative and describes the society and events of the time. All these approaches look for patterns, contexts, meanings, themes, or connections. For some, the accounts are close representations of what Ohthere and Wulfstan said, for others they are brief, edited versions of reports or interviews, or historically unreliable versions which contain more or less corrupted or incomprehensible information, or a combination of any of the above with a varying degree of historical credibility. In this study, the travel accounts are regarded as historical sources and geographical narratives, but also as highly edited versions of the original oral reports. The idea of three geographical foci is a reader’s interpret­ ation, one among other interpretations of the narrative. In this division, historical, political or ethnic groupings may coincide with the textual frontier zones in the descriptions of the Northmen and Danes’ worlds. For a reader, the narrative contains several symbolic and ideological contact zones where opposing concepts meet: the North—the South, the East—the West, the known— the unknown, non-Christian cultures— Christendom, and oral culture—a literate society. The new knowledge redefines both northern and eastern margins of Germania, and the centre contains a familiar group, the Danes, of whose lives nothing is told per­ haps because for this very reason. One frontier is absent illustrating why the travel accounts are not so much about ‘the other’ as they are about ‘the same’. The absence of any description of Ohthere’s and Wulfstan’s voyages to the British Isles makes it plain that there is no significant distance, no meaningful journey, be­ tween Britain or Alfred’s Wessex and the North. There is a medieval quantum leap or a virtual step in space in the narrative: an insider from the North is talking to King Alfred without explanation of how he crossed the space that separated Britain and the North. The missing link can be seen as a connecting link. On space and time The sections of the geographical foci in the narrative share certain elem­ ents, i.e. an emphasis on one ethnicity, a reference to central place, and the characterization of the narrative through movement, although the space in each section is also distinctive. The North is an ordered space where paths and focal points intersect, where land and sea are fertile and inhabitants

494 The North in the Old English Orosius

occupy specific places and have mobile lives governed by routines, rituals, and challenges. The spatial elements that are discussed here relate to 1) movement and 2) sea, land, and central place.29 Many elements overlap or coincide. The discussion of the geographical patterns that have been read in the narrative differs from a historical interpretation of the text, although it tells about the past since settlements, routes, lands, and seas have a his­ tory, even if the history is not told. In any case, the narrative itself and its analysis are not complete and accurate descriptions of the ethnic, cultural, or political geography of the late ninth-century North. Cultures or com­ munities were not necessarily as homogeneous as textual description im­ plies. Overlapping phenomena are difficult to represent accurately, which can lead to simplified descriptions. In the OE Or., the North is primarily geographical, i.e. concerned with space, rather than historical, i.e. concerned with time and describing the present world with reference to its past. Space and time are intercon­ nected dimensions, however. Given this connection, it is interesting to briefly observe the temporal character of the geographical narrative, which is both transient and static, and where the time is the present day. The narrative captures a moment in time, a snapshot of life in the late ninth century. The linear progression from one place to another and from event to event is temporal arrangement of space, where places are simultaneous.30 Alfred, Ohthere, and Wulfstan are also present during the same period of time. The relationship between the North and the rest of the world appears stable and unchanging, as if the North was frozen in timelessness. The captured moment is incorporated into the eternal time of God. The static nature of medieval time derives from Christian ideology, where God’s Earth and everything on it would stay the way God created them.31 There was no difficulty in combining ancient history and medieval geography in the same book, since it was all God’s knowledge and existed in his fixed and atemporal time. Past and future were present to God at the same time. A sense of history is, however, evoked by proper names, along with descriptions of accumulated knowledge, activities, and customs which would have been based on tradition, memory, or experience. The past is 29 The categorization is inspired by Spirn 1998: 33. 30 Cf. Campbell 1988: 27. 31 For stable relations and their universal symbolism and medieval perceptions of time, see Gurevich 1985: 26-39, 94-151, 293.

The Alfredian Context 495

most strikingly evoked by the references to Angeln. Finally, the most important aspect of time is the recording of the accounts, which was an act that created memory and history. Movement No voyages between Britain and the North are discussed in the OE Or. which enhances the sense of stillness and closeness between these areas. In contrast, there is much movement within the North. It is a space of transit, hunting, and racing. In fact, the entirety of the stories recounted by Ohthere and Wulfs tan can be regarded as movement, since their plots are composed of voyages and depict the space in a certain order. The motions in the narrative guide the reader’s attention in specific directions.32 Movement is an archetypal activity where many viewpoints overlap.33 Key observations and memories are linked to movement, which means that the movement of the travellers, winds, rivers, and horses define the individual character of the three geographical foci. The strongest sense of movement derives from the four sailing voyages. They create narrative paths which guide the reader through the space which they have ultimately brought to life.34 These paths are descriptions of places of passage and ex­ change, regular or seasonal. Other paths are on land, such as the path for riding or carrying boats or that for carrying a corpse. The riding path reveals not only a space, but also a hierarchical society. Gregory uses the term ‘scripting’ for a process where movement takes place on a horizontal level from one point to another: steps of signals produce a sequence of interactions. A sequenced narrative links ‘sites’ in chronological and spatial order.35 For instance, in the scripted space of the Northmen, the whale-hunters’ post and Ira land function as signs along the maritime paths. Similarly, the Danish lands, the Baltic islands and coastal 32 Cf. Zoran 1984: 314, 321. 33 Spirn 1998: 67. 34 The association between ‘path’ and ‘journey’ is a universal one in human culture; see Spirn 1998: 32, 119; cf. Tilley 1994: 28-29. It is possible that Ohthere and Wulfstan drew sketches of their routes and the relative positions of lands and peoples, if not on parchment, then perhaps on the floor or the ground. The evidence of writing for non-ecclesiastical purposes provided by finds of letters and runic inscriptions encourage us to assume that writing, or rather the use of tools of literacy, was not an entirely foreign activity among people outside monas­ teries and royal courts. See Clanchy 1999: 9; Garrison 1999. 35 Gregory 1999: 116-117; cf. Tuan 1979:180.

496 The North in the Old English Orosius

territories mark where the travellers are at any given point. The reference points are on land, but the actual progress is at sea. The routes outline a backbone for the geography on the basis of which the reader can conceive a basic grid for a mental spatial image. At the same time, the routes reveal the network and pattem of sea travel at the time and how space was concretely conceptualized, e.g. as a day’s travelling distance or the distance to the nearest market place.36 The route descriptions may also signal that the routes were relatively safe to follow and that the trading centres along them were safe to visit.37 The only problem during any of the voyages was with the Biarmians, but Ohthere had a simple and probably common solution for how to avoid trouble in foreign places: do not land if safety is not guaranteed. The de­ scription of Ohthere’s Arctic voyage matches the observation made of some traditional societies that only a high-ranking or wealthy person is likely to be daring enough to invent a path or begin a relationship that had not been previously established. Expert knowledge and path-making are part of the responsibility of chiefs, who can also assert great power by narrating stories of traditions, e.g. ancestral movements.38 Even though Ohthere’s Arctic voyage was probably not the first such journey by a Northman, the representation of it presents Ohthere as a daring dis­ coverer. The two chiefs in Ohthere’s account are Ohthere and Alfred, and both are placed at the departure point of a northern voyage which resulted in new learning and discovery—for both men. Since voyages are fundamental for the evolution of the narrative, I shall briefly discuss a few central issues related to travel descriptions that have connections to the representation of the North in the OE Or. Campbell writes that “the history of travel, exploration and discovery is mainly an achievement of men of action and unlearned people—not of scholars... who thought they could distinguish fact from fantasy”.39 I cannot comment on Ohthere’s book learning, but it is nevertheless clear that, for the author, Ohthere’s Arctic journey was a voyage of discovery

36 For the concept of the distance to market, see Fried 2000: 44. 37 For safety and stability as conditions for sailing and maintaining trading sites in the Early Middle Ages, see Fabech 1999a: 464. For the relative security of seaways in the North Adantic in the latter part of Alfred's reign, see Maddicott 1989: 41. 38 Parmentier, R. 1987: The Sacred Remains^ 109-111, 114-115, as cited by Tilley 1994: 31-32. 39 Campbell 1988: 50.

The Alfredian Context 497

and a contribution to his quest for new knowledge of other places.40 Ohthere had the same mindset as the Vikings, who were “pioneers in geographical discovery”, and for whom long voyages, long distances, and geographical knowledge were familiar matters and regularly dealt with in everyday life.41 The description of the northern voyages bears some resemblance to Renaissance geography, although this does not imply direct similarities. The travel accounts take a pragmatic approach and the purpose of Ohthere’s Arctic voyage, at least, was to look for something—land further north. In this sense, the voyage was not totally unlike journeys of discovery of the sixteenth century. Other early medieval travelling must have had similar aims of finding resources or new living spaces. The accounts also describe voyages of discovery in the sense that they are placed in the context of a new vision—the Christian world of Orosius. The author selected certain paths for the audience to follow, and all these paths meandered through pagan lands.42 Bauschatz notes how descriptions of ‘Germanic journeys’ emphasize the ‘discovery’ or ‘outcome5 rather than the transport. Relations between places are discontinuous, and action signifies the importance of a space. Journeys lack events; for example, Beowulf and his men’s voyage to Denmark in Beowulf is of “little more significance than a ride in an eleva­ tor”, the important action taking place in the Danish land.43 The de­ scriptions of the voyages through the North in the OE Or. are similarly 40 Cf. McGrane 1989: 24. The perception of the world in the early medieval period was principally the same as in Antiquity: the Earth was a sphere, with an ocean surrounding three inhabited continents. According to Kleinschmidt (2000: 44), this worldview boosted the migrations between the 4th and 6th centuries and stimulated seafaring activities in the North and Baltic Seas between the 8th and 10thcenturies. The classical woddview was suitable for these ends because it made travel beyond local settlements conceivable, since there was only one landmass which was surrounded by water. In this context, Kleinschmidt refers to the ac­ counts of Ohthere and Wulfstan. However, he does not explain exactly how the literate worldview contributed to the migrations and to Viking-Age seafaring. The motivation for the leaving of homelands may not have been entirely based on knowledge of the Earth or cosmography, but on more practical and local circum­ stances. Furthermore, textual geography may not correspond fully with the world­ view of non-literate peoples. 41 The quote is in Mawer 1926: 70. 42 For choosing paths to see, see Spirn 1998: 32. 43 Beowulf210-224; Bauschatz 1982: 56,132.

498 The North in the Old English Orosius

unremarkable transfers to distant places, and largely corroborate the opin­ ion that voyages in the literature of the Germani contain no space between the departure and arrival, since there is no action. The only activ­ ities reported during Ohthere’s and Wulfs tan’s voyages are sailing, waiting, and observing. The itinerary nature of these voyages differs from poetic travels, however. The men were describing real sea routes, where itinerary space was meaningful throughout. Voyages are an ancient method of converting the foreign into the familiar and redefining the known world.44 Travel changes who we are, since it demonstrates that identities are not shaped in only one place. Some writers were travellers themselves, but others recorded second-hand accounts. In addition to Ohthere’s and Wulfs tan’s reports, there are other early medieval accounts of real travels in north-western Europe, such as descriptions of pilgrimages, immrama, and the voyages in the ON sagas.45 Anglo-Saxon poetry provides examples of either imaginary or real voyages in Widsith Beowulf, The Seafarer,, and The Wanderer. In The Seafarer; the writer sees ‘the ocean path’, the dark night, the snow from the north, and the frost and hail as constraining his travelling. The world outside, with its settled lands, was perceived as disorganized and insecure, but the sea was not a desirable place either.46 The destinations of these poetic journeys are not fixed. Other texts, such as The Wonders o f the East and The Tetter o f Alexander to Aristotle, were possibly perceived as travel descriptions, and not necessarily fictional ones, since they contain empirical geography and ethnography of

,

44 Cf. Campbell 1998: 1-2. Figuratively, a voyage can also mean a distraction. Alfred’s biographer Asser (21, 73, 91) was familiar with nautical metaphors about literary composition: he remarks that he should stay on course and not digress from his topic. He also compares Alfred to an excellent pilot, who guides his ship laden with wealth to the safety of his homeland with only God’s assistance, despite troubles and exhausted sailors. The voyage in these comments is not only a solitary undertaking, but also a digression from the familiar or expected. The representation of Ohthere’s and Wulfstan’s voyages is somewhat similar, and they also depart from the literary context. 45 Campbell 1998: 7, 33-45; Jesch 2005. One well-known example is Willibald’s pilgrim journey to southern Europe and the Mediterranean, which was recorded by an Anglo-Saxon nun called Huneberc of Heidenheim in the 8th century. The Irish scholar Adomnán (c. 627-704) recorded a description of holy places in Palestine as recounted to him by bishop Arculf. 46 Seafarer 27-33; Wanderer 19-29; cf. Kleinschmidt 2000: 42-46. For journeys and movement in OE poetry, see Howe 1985: 100-102.

The Alfredian Context 499

the frontiers of the known world.47 In Campbell’s view, Wonders may be “the black sheep of medieval travel literature”, because it is ultimately factual.48 The influence of the classical periplus approach to geography began to decrease in the ninth century.49 The structure of the description of coastal habitation in the travel accounts is still reminiscent of the ancient periplus approach.50 The mental geography of Ohthere’s account also involves another periplus beginning at Alfred’s court, since Alfred is the first recog­ nizable element. This creates a point of departure for the mental space in which the voyages take place and the North is formed. Ohthere’s account ends by returning close to England, not only geographically but also psycho-historically, since Angeln is mentioned just before Ohthere’s final destination, Hedeby. Wulfstan’s account has a periplus structure and ends with a section on activities that have familiar echoes in the Anglo-Saxon past and culture. It is possible to see reflections of an even older method of spatial com­ position in the accounts. Marincola divides the fifth-century B.C. Greek historian Herodotus’s work into two: 1) an Odyssean half, in which the narrator engages in travels, reporting marvels and inquiring as to the customs and ways of exotic peoples, and 2) an Uiadic half, which is a war story emphasizing deeds of bravery and heroism.51 Language, the setdement of land, central places, distances, natural resources, proper names, economy, agriculture, dress, social organization, hostilities, feasts, and rituals are all ancient topics that Herodotus already addressed. The notion of similarities, sjnkrisis, exists in Herodotus’s writing.52 The same notion is not totally alien to the OE Or., where people and places in the 47 Ed and trans. Orchard 1995: 183-203, 224-253. Orchard (pp. 117-118, 120125, 139, 170) discusses the two medieval views on Alexander as 1) an explorer and seeker of marvels, and 2) a megalomaniac and a moral example of pride. In the OE Or., Alexander is undermined, while the OE Letter, which was translated in the same period as the Boethius, gives an Orosian perspective, but still re­ presents Alexander as a hero who travelled to distant lands. 48 Campbell 1998: 80. 49 Gautier Dalché 2001: 2. 50 Nicolet (1991: 70-72) partly disagrees with the notion that a linear view {periplus, itinerary) takes little account of true orientations and juxtaposes a succession of points without truly placing them in space in Roman geographical material. Spatial conception could also be abstract and planar (as in maps). 51 Marincola 2001: 27. 52 Lund 1993: 66.

500 The North in the Old English Orosius

North appear in general similar to the Anglo-Saxons. The categories of information which Herodotus discussed, but which are absent in the accounts, are religion, gods, and mirabilia. A discussion of these topics would have created a significant difference between the peoples of the North and others. Sea, land, and central places In geography, physical forms are often described first followed by cultural forms. This also takes place in the narrative of the North. The perception towards the geography in the narrative is dominated by the constant opposition and interaction between the sea and the land. The land and the sea are ordered conceptually in relation to their roles in transport, sub­ sistence, or settling. This is most obvious in the Northmen’s land, where the natural positions of the land and the sea create a symmetry. The sea carries both travellers to their destinations. Other waters, such as rivers, define the space in certain key locations. The Vistula delta is described as a separate territory of rivers, lakes, and a gateway to the sea.53 The delta is said to have a mouth, which is the only metaphor used in the travel accounts which projects the human body onto the surrounding world. Another spatial image of this kind is ‘the arm of the sea’, which occurs in the geography of Germania. Other expressions refer to space and direction: sea turns in, river flows out, river turns up into land, highlands are eastwards and upwards, other places are north, south, east, and west, or all the way.545 The scale of the North is large. The lengths of the voyages, the widths of the western part of the Scandinavian Peninsula and Estmere, and even the length of marine mammals and ship-ropes and the number of reindeer speak of vast spaces, not to mention the presence of the open sea. The smaller, domestic scale is best exemplified by the descriptions of Ohthere’s farming and livestock, but also by the death rituals and horse race in E stlan ds Otherwise, Estland is large to Wulfstan, who knew that there were many setdements in the land. The measurement of the space is carried out partly by means of the time that men’s movement took in it; man is the measure of the land. The proportions and shapes of places and waterways are indicated both implicidy and explicidy. The range of perception mosdy varies between the small (home, animals) and faidy 53 For a similar reading of a watershed territory in Australia, see Spirn 1998: 119. 54 Cf. Spirn 1998: 20. 55 For the domestic scale, see Spirn 1998: 172.

The Alfredian Context 501

large, although at times it is very small (the funeral pyre, the ice chamber) or very laige (the open sea, the whole world of Orosius). In the narrative, there are spaces which are basic to human habitats and generated by activities, and are not formal or fixed.56 The whale- and walrus-hunting grounds of Ohthere and other Northmen are spaces which are defined by the hunters’ knowledge and use of them and by the activ­ ities that take place within them. They are spaces that change shape and extent. Another such space is the space within which Ohthere lives, the land he uses, and the spaces that he utilizes for gathering his wealth. Ohthere is this space; he is the land and the sea that he knows about; they create his identity. There is no mention in the text of Wulfs tan’s own land but King Alfred can be identified with 'this land’ (Britain). In fact, the homelands of Ohthere and Alfred exist in relation to each other in the narrative: 'this land’ and Nordweg are positioned as each other’s counter­ parts, which is similar to the perception of them in Frankish sources. Gurevich states that there was no sharp delineation between the Earth and man or a community in medieval Scandinavia. The qualities of a free man in possession of land and adjacent rights were transferred in the imagination to the land, which was also regarded as free or noble. A person’s origin and kinship and concepts of landed property were conjoined.57 Ohthere’s account gives the reader the opportunity to transfer the qualities of Ohthere to the land he describes. This would be a process where a geographical mindset would produce a perception of people and their lives. The three central places, Säringes heal, Hedeby, and Truso, function as pivots in the grid of the mental image created by the sailing routes. They were built in key locations and belonged to a network of power centres in the North- and Baltic-Sea regions. Their importance was probably known in England through contacts between traders or craftsmen. Such towns existed in the collective experience of Viking-Age people, e.g. of the Vikings who invaded and settled England.58 Central places have been extensively studied both in geography and archaeology. In geography, the term 'central place’ refers to a place in the urban hierarchy which has a certain economic reach or hinterland. Central places are not distinguished from each other by physical geography, but by distance between a central place and population base on one hand and 56 Such spaces are called performance spaces by Spirn 1998: 111-121. 57 Gurevich 1985: 44-45. 58 For Viking knowledge of towns, see Hall 2000: 315.

502 The North in the Old English Orosius

goods and services on the other. Central places are not necessarily equal to each other in size or activities, in political importance, or in terms of the size and wealth of the surrounding territories.59 The archaeological criteria for the identification of Viking-Age central places include valuables, setdements or residences, early town structures, and wealthy burials. Place-names can also give clues to the centrality of and activities in places.60 A more specific set of criteria for defining a central place from the latter half of the first millennium in Scandinavia lists the use of horses (horse harness), the production of luxuries, owner­ ship of boats or ships (boat houses), rich resources, a favourable location in relation to resources, and a location near communication routes. Herschend defines a central place in Nordic archaeology c. 400-1000 as “a large farm in association with ritual and trade in an optimal position benefiting from surplus in the environment”. These places, or rather central-place complexes, were centres of commerce, political power, reli­ gious and judicial power, military force, or crafts production, but their importance, size, and set of functions varied.61 These criteria apply not only to Hedeby, Säringes heal, and Truso, but some of them also identify Ohthere’s household and the Este setdements as central places. If Ohthere’s worldview was similar to that displayed in ON material, he may have thought that his home was in the middle of the world and that the places he went to were no more central than his home.62 However, since litde is known of pre-Christian cosmology, the perception of someone like Ohthere of his home in a wider spatial context remains obscure.

59 For Walther Christaller and August Lösch’s theory of central places in eco­ nomic geography, see Peet 1998: 20-21; Gren and Hallin 2003: 106-108, 219; Johnston 2005a. 60 Näsman 2000: 43. The criteria were defined for Danish setdements, but they can be applied to others as well. For central places and names in the North, e.g. husaby, hall' and sal\ see also Callmer 1994b; Brink 1996; Brink 1999: 433-435; Fabech 1999a; Fabech 1999b: 40-45. 61 For the criteria, see Fabech 1999b: 41; Herschend 1999: 333 (quote); Näsman and Roesdahl 2003: 296. For the definition of towns and emporia, see Wickham 2005: 591-596, 681-692. Wickham considers the economic criteria most import­ ant, since these urban centres, emporia, were primarily places of import and export. 62 Meulengracht Sorensen 1995: 52-53; cf. Gurevich 1985: 47.

The Alfredian Context 503

The central place complexes were often at the frontiers of different economic zones.63 This characteristic frontier location occurs in the travel accounts, where all central places are located in borderlands. Hedeby’s location is special: it is at the crossroads of all directions, and forms a link between the two accounts. Such places of accumulation were significant in the geographical conception of early medieval Scandinavia before the advent of fixed borders and kingdoms.64 An interesting feature of a central place is its connection to a social setting or the personal charisma of a powerful individual. The settlements were not created only by topography; mental landscapes also played a role. For instance, social relations affected how houses were situated in relation to each other. A leader could organize his household and have dominion in his region.65 According to his account, Ohthere had access to large areas in Fennoscandia, and his knowledge of them gave him authority. Ohthere’s economic hinterland did not necessarily have borders, but was a conceptual space, an imagined region that he could expand, visit, or utilize according to his needs. His home farm was a centre that regulated life on the margins of the setded and cultivated land. The descriptions of the named central places, and perhaps even the many unnamed settlements in Estland, reflect the importance of early towns in early medieval life, an importance which is also evident in other geographical sources and in maps.66 The association between an urban centre and the countryside is a recurring one in ancient or early medieval material. At this time, urban and rural setdements formed part of a preestablished scheme: the town was the centre of activities, and the rural area was setded by peasants or used for temporary residences.67 63 Fabech 1999a: 456-457,464; Näsman 2000: 46. 64 Cf. Ringtved 1999. 65 Fabech 1999b: 42. The important institutions were the home, the hall, and the thing, and the environment and setdements were organized according to a specific symbolic meaning (Hedeager 2002b: 12-13). Herschend (1999: 333) discusses the concept of loyalty and centrality, and states that a leader could spread his power over a larger area by installing loyal servants on dominant farms. 66 Cf. Harrison 1998: 43-44. 67 For towns, see Tuan 1974: 150-191; Le Goff 1988: 74-75; Diaz 2000: 3-6. Towns were obvious destinations, and their names were familiar. Christianity constructed its institutional network and cosmology around towns, particularly Jerusalem and Rome, and the countryside was a refuge for monastic life. In the Orosian polemic ideology, Rome was the City of God, from where the Christian domination of the world spread. In the Anglo-Saxon wodd, Rome was equally

504 The North in the Old English Orosius Wilderness The opposite of a central place is countryside or wilderness {weste, westenne), wasteland. There was plenty of land that could be characterized in this way in the North, where much of the countryside was forest, highland, or tundra. It is not surprising then that in the far North, some tracts of land are wild or temporarily inhabited, rather than civilized, cultivated, or permanently inhabited. From a farmer’s viewpoint, land is either humanized or modified by man, or yet to be humanized. In the narrative, Ohthere’s home is in the humanized land, and the wilderness is only to be explored or visited.68 Ohthere lives in a place which is largely surrounded by land which exists outside his society and law. The whole world was divided into three spaces in traditional medieval perceptions of the universe according to its occupancy:69 1) the space where men lived and created their own defined spaces 2) the open space where cattle grazed and there were no fences 3) everything beyond (e.g. forest). Wilderness had a role in the Christian order of the world, where nature was valueless until it was humanized; it was the last frontier against chaos. Wilderness itself was not considered divine and paganism and wild nature were often linked and perceived as spiritually symbolic. Deserts, islands, forests, or mountains, especially distant ones, were inhabited by monsters or dangerous animals, but not by ordinary humans, unless they were holy men, hermits, pagans, or criminals, or lived an idyllic existence among the animals. Mountainous regions in medieval Western Europe seem to have been considered to be hostile, and are mostly described as being inhabited by demons and evil spirits rather than gods.70 important. King Alfred also gave more pragmatic attention to urban settlements when he embarked on building and reinforcing towns. Orosius mentions many towns in his History, but Rutupi portus (Richborough in Kent) and Eboracum (York; Eformcceastre in the OE Or. 142/14), are the northernmost ones in Europe (Orosius 1.2.76; VII.35.23). Meanwhile, and ignoring the travel accounts, the OE Or. mentions Cirenceastre, ‘Cirencester', (126/10) with regard to Roman history. 68 For humanized and civilized land, see Oelschlaeger 1991: 28, 32-33, 61-62. Note that the lands of the Sami have been described as wilderness in historical times. 69Jackson 1984: 45^9. 70 Le Goff 1988: 47-59; Oelschlaeger 1991: 72-73; Simek 1996: 86-88; Harrison 1998: 23-24, 105. For Roman perceptions of the landscapes beyond the limes, the

The Alfredian Context 505

In the section which focuses on the Northmen’s space, wilderness spaces are temporarily inhabited or visited by ordinary humans, who acquire much of their wealth from wild nature. In reality, such wilderness spaces as forests were a source of timber, fuel, metals, game, and other foods, and provided grazing land, even for the Christians in the South.71 The medieval forest had two faces: it was wild but still full of people who worked and lived there and, for instance, parts of it could have been set aside for hunting. Even the Christian attitude towards the wilderness as a place of refuge or purgation and a place of desolation or demons is am­ biguous. Tuan’s definition of wilderness as a state of mind is appropriate in these circumstances.72 Brink suggests that forests were regarded as safe and familiar by con­ tinental Scandinavians in the Viking Age, refuting the suggestion that they would have shared the later Icelandic notion of forests as uncivilized and dangerous, a perception which is evident in sagas, which were influenced by Christian ideology and by the changes in the Icelandic landscape (from forest to barren land or grasslands).73 Hansen has discussed the dichotomies of settled vs. unsettled and culture vs. nature in descriptions of the present-day Norwegian provinces of Halogaland and Finnmark in early medieval sources such as the Historia forest, and Germania, see Schama 1995: 75-81. For examples of Christian connotations in the description of open, unregulated land in OE poetry, see Hines 2004: 58. 71 Le Goff 1988: 52-53. 72 Tuan 1974: 109-112. 73 Brink 2004b: 300-302. In another study, Brink (2001: 100) discusses a forest borderland in Central Sweden, Tiveden, which is between the provinces of Västergödand and Närke, during the Late Iron Age. Large forests between major setdement districts may have been seen as the dwelling-places of deities, and been charged with spiritual beliefs. In Iceland, ‘the wild’ included untamed nature, land that was not lived in, óbyggdir. Icelandic notions of ‘wild’ and ‘social’ spaces are discussed by Hastrup 1985: 144-145. In Nordic mythology (pp. 146-151), central places were the homes of the people and the gods, Miðgarðr and Asgarðr, and they were surrounded by unknown wilderness inhabited by giants and monsters, Utgardr. This cosmological model is found in 13^-century texts, particularly in Snorri’s Edda. It is uncertain whether Ohthere shared this worldview, since the ON sources are much later and Snorri was a Christian scholar (cf. criticism of Hastrup by Brink 2004b: 293). However, Ohthere’s account does divide the northernmost regions into uninhabited and inhabited areas, although it conveys no explicit sense of the wilderness or forest as unsafe.

506 The North in the Old English Orosius

Norvegiae, the ON sagas, Saxo Grammaticus’s Historia Danica^ and placenames.74 Finnmark is described as wide, wild, uninhabited, and deserted (Norw. ed£)y rich in wild animals, fish, and fur animals. In Hansen’s interpretation, Finnmark is depicted as unspecified land which the North­ men do not control; the Northmen wonder how the Sami can control the wild environment and use its resources. This would create a geographical dichotomy of hunters’ land vs. farmers’ land, or 'wild, frightening, and foreign land’ and its opposites. Ohthere’s account does not fully accord with Hansen’s view. It reflects Ohthere’s and/or the author’s view of what is civilized, but it also implies that Ohthere entered the world of the Sami, used its resources, and interacted with them and others. The border between the two cultures was not impermeable, and what was beyond was not necessarily all foreign. For the Anglo-Saxons, the subject of land use would have been famil­ iar from their everyday lives as well as from biblical texts. Land use was regulated by grants, land loans, and customs.75 In the ninth century, bookland began to be used in land transactions.76 In general, land equalled power (e.g. states owned land) and was the source of wealth in the Early Middle Ages. The author of Ohthere’s account probably regarded land as most valuable when it was tamed for cultivation and thus brought into harmony with the divine order of things.

5.2. Northern geography in the Alfredian context On the significance of geography The Alfredian context of the representation of the North in the OE Or. is one of the most intriguing aspects of the travel accounts. King Alfred, the Alfredian period, Alfred’s court, his circle, and his assistants have been 74 Hansen 1990: 206-208. 75 Williams 1999. There was a significant difference between Anglo-Saxon England and the North in the system of organization of land, which has links to geographical conception and religion. England was a centralized organization of the Christian church, a structure which included parishes, cathedral towns, and dioceses. Centrality was at the core of Christian hierarchical mentality. The North, on the other hand, was a more decentralized and pagan society in the second half of the ninth century, with the possible exception of some Danish territories. See Fabech 1999a: 469-471; Näsman 2000: 52. Christian hierarchy and centrality transformed the decentralized structure in the North much later than the OE Or. 76 Wormald 1999: 280.

The Alfredian Context 507

referred to several times in earlier sections. The meaning of these phrases is inevitably somewhat vague, as our knowledge of Alfred and his reign is fragmentary. The term ‘Alfredian context’ is here used to mean a combin­ ation of intellectual and practical interests or concerns that the king and the learned Anglo-Saxon world are known or were likely to have had during Alfred’s reign, as they are known or deduced from the sources from the period and understood in secondary literature. Even though the author of the OE Or. and the exact relationship of the work to the other translations or original productions of the Alfredian period are not known for certain, the mere existence of the accounts and the geography of Germania prove that northern Europe was of interest for some learned minds that werfe engaged in historical and political matters in England at the end of the ninth century. This permits an exploration into a possible context for the northern geography during Alfred’s reign. It must be emphasized that the ninth-century geographical percep­ tions, knowledge and imagination are not the same as those of our own time. In the Anglo-Saxon period, the world was only partially known and places were still being discovered or (re)defined by inquiring minds. Ideal­ ly, in an interpretation of early medieval geography, one should be able to ignore modem geographical perceptions when necessary, although it may be an impossible task. I will look for the significance of the northern geography in association with ancestral and contemporary political concerns of the Anglo-Saxons. The depiction of the North is relatively accurate in terms of modem geographical conceptions, the content of the accounts is for the most part historically reliable, and the voyages are believable. However, in an intellectual and literary mind, the space that is described may have been associated also with spaces in legends or histories rather than merely been understood as contemporary ‘geography’ or ‘ethnography’. The empiri­ cism and attention to detail may lead a modem reader to assume that information was perceived only as factual. However, the polemic context of Orosius’s History,, the ideas connecting England and Rome, and the ancestral concerns connecting the Anglo-Saxons to various Germanic legends may have had an influence on how the northern geography was perceived. The fact that there was no comprehensive Roman geography to supply a conceptual framework for the Anglo-Saxon experience of their past and the Viking attacks may have influenced geographical inquiry and imagination. There was, however, the attack on Rome by the Goths, which resonated in ninth-century England.

508 The North in the Old English Orosius

Even if parts of the North were understood in the Anglo-Saxon im­ agination in terms of geography that had been inherited or was present in legends, i.e. the North had a relation to the space of ‘Germanic legend’,77 northern geography could still have had a pragmatic meaning. Other geo­ graphical knowledge existed for the purposes of travelling and astronomy. However, associations with legendary material meant that places, itin­ eraries, or distances could be perceived in relation to legendary geography, as it was known from textual or oral sources. They created their own worlds, where issues such as relative locations of places, distances, or movements could be perceived differendy from how they were seen in terms of the geographical knowledge of sailors or military strategists. Stories are told about places after they have been visited, and different viewpoints create different associations for these places. A sense of place develops over time and acquires a past that is significant and gives it a distinctive identity. For these reasons, attempts to understand places or regions must consider their past. Collective memories and traditions are also relevant to geography.78 It is also worth pointing out that medieval people perceived and construed the world as a unity, i.e. parts of the world were not conceived as independent entities but as copies of the whole, each carrying the imprint of the whole. There was a structural hierarchy and harmony be­ tween the elements of the cosmos. God was the regulating principle and the world and everything in it was seen from a moral standpoint; nothing was neutral. The universal history of the world was seen as the history of salvation, and all things were involved in this process, in which time and space also had a sacral character.79 A new representation of the North was inserted into the universal his­ tory of Orosius, with its salvation and teleological history. The three geo­ graphical foci represent areas within Germania that are not necessarily neutral, insignificant, or accidental in their contexts, but may derive their significance from Anglo-Saxon history and political necessities. The focus areas may have legendary and contemporary intellectual associations with such concepts or subjects as the northern margin of the world and an­ cestors and ancestral lands, all of which can be found in Anglo-Saxon 77 Frank 1991: 89. Frank defines the period of Germanic legend as between the 4th and 6th centuries, and cautions readers not to mistake the term for a genre that was understood at the time (p. 92). 78 Clarke 1999:18,36. 79 Gurevich 1985: 288.

The Alfredian Context 509

sources. Some of these focus areas are described not only in the OE Or., but also in legendary material, such as Beowulf and Widsith. The Anglo-Saxons knew that the Vikings came from northern lands and that the Danes lived in Anglo-Saxon ancestral lands and some of them had an interest in the Goths. At least some of the literate AngloSaxons would have known of Angeln and the kinship (which was also linguistic) between themselves and the Danes (and possibly pardy also the Northmen), and been aware of a mythical or symbolic kinship between the Goths and the Anglo-Saxons. The past always looms large in Alfredian sources. In a study of spatial and temporal conceptions of the Germani, Bauschatz has concluded that Germanic space defines itself through its relevance to the past. The past was a place of action, and places were associated with some kind of past-related content.80 The description of the geography of Germania could have been suffi­ cient to update Orosius’s original geography. The travel accounts, how­ ever, contributed something else of significance: they would have pro­ vided material not only for the education and entertainment of male elites, but also for the contemplation of historical and contemporary concerns. The Alfredian world was in a position to know about the North, and desired this knowledge, as the OE Or. proves. The OE Or. was a suitable medium to expand the world, express the extent of the knowledge at the court, and explore current necessities, elite interests, and intellectual aims. The inclusion and possible exclusion of various details in the accounts have been commented on by some scholars. For instance, Lund writes that “Ottar is remarkably silent about the political conditions of Scandinavia”.81 It is sometimes thought that either the informants did not know more, or they did not tell the interviewers everything they knew, but more often, as in this study, it is thought that the author did not write down everything that was recounted. It is, of course, impossible to be absolutely certain whether the accounts represent a conscious, consistent attempt to bring about a change in the conception of the North, or whether they were the accidental outcome of a rare opportunity to find out more about northern lands, and were later edited and utilized in an appropriate textual context, with or without any other concern except that they fitted into the Orosian geography. The author’s intentions, the mens auctoris, are naturally not fully retrievable.

80 Bauschatz 1982:130-132. 81 Lund 1991b: 167. See also, e.g. Svanberg 2003, Part 1: 191

510 The North in the Old English Orosius

However, the fact remains that there was an effort to change intel­ lectual traditions about northern geography in King Alfred’s time and it can be analyzed in the context of what else is known about Anglo-Saxon geographical conceptions. Discussions of the context inevitably deal with Anglo-Saxon literary and intellectual history and its criticism, what people knew and believed about themselves, their history and their world, and who could have ordered the production of the accounts or the OE Or., for whom, and for what purpose. All these questions cannot be answered here, but my aim is to present a set of theories concerning the accounts as a geographical narrative. I begin by examining the narrative as a whole in the Alffedian period and then discuss the contexts of the geographical foci. On King Alfred Alfred’s rule of twenty-eight years (871-899) can be described as a constant struggle against hindrances; troubles occupied a central place during his reign.82 The Vikings played a decisive role in many matters, from unity in the kingdom to Alfred’s bodily anxieties.83 Asser portrays Alfred as a devout and humble man who had doubts about his own ability to rule but who, despite his illnesses, was capable of ruling effectively. Alfred is presented as a king who has internalized contemporary models of royal behaviour, and Asser’s text should be understood as a programmatic work rather than a biographical account of the king.84 The same ideas about image-building were also circulating in Franda and the Byzantine Empire where tools such as texts were used for nation-building.85 It has been said that Alfred’s reading and his own translations had far more direct influence on him 82 Cf. Pratt 2001:84. 83 For the illnesses, possible Crohn’s disease, and their meaning in the portrayal of Alfred, see Asser 74, 91; Keynes and Lapidge 1983: 255-256; Scharer 1996: 187189; Kershaw 2001; Pratt 2001. For Vikings and Alfred’s illnesses, see Pratt 2001: 83-90. The greater the king’s suffering and sacrifices, the greater the obligation for the elites to partidpate in efforts aimed towards victory over the Vikings. 84 Scharer 1996; Kershaw 2001: 218; cf. Wormald 2001: 118 n. 5. 85 Alfred was one of several more or less contemporary kings of similar stature in Western Europe. Other kings also resisted attackers and patronized cultural ex­ change; see Wormald 1991: 157; Gameson 1995; Davies 2003; Nelson 2003. Alfred’s England was not isolated from developments in the rest of the world, and causes, influences, and models from elsewhere affected his reign. The mech­ anics of this cultural and intellectual interaction have yet to be fully discovered and understood.

The Alfredian Context 511

than Carolingian models, for example,86 but it is likely that Frankish and other European ideas had a substantial and fundamental influence on Alfred’s thinking.87 King Alfred has been many things for many scholars: a literary spon­ sor, a philosopher king, a warrior king, the father of England, a neurotic invalid, a fanatic, or a sexually ambiguous man horribly plagued by ill­ nesses. He appears to have genuinely pursued wisdom and devotion, and desired to advance learning, and he was a pragmatic military leader. Sources of his reign reflect Alfred’s vision of power and his ideals for a good king. How strategic and intentional, deliberate, or long-term Alfred’s plans and activities were is debated. Alfred was not a learned man in the sense that men such as Bede, Aldhelm, or Alcuin can be called learned. The audience for the Alfredian translations was not learned in that way either. Alfred has been characterized as a competently literate person, although he was still an “earnest but ill-educated man”,88 and his classical knowledge was “fairly limited”.89 Nevertheless, he was still, as Wormald points out, a ninthcentury intellectual who wrote books about his job.90 Alfred as an author can be understood as a collective nomination, representing a team or a committee of learned people, assistants and advisers, which included Alfred in some way, but there are also strong arguments for his own authorship.91 The variety of written sources for Alfred’s reign symbolizes his kingship and royal government.92 There is still a debate over the kind of nation, state, community, or political unity that existed during Alfred’s reign and how English identity was expressed, defined, or understood.93

86 Bately 1986b: 42. 87 Wormald 1991: 156; Pratt 2007a. 88 The Alfredian Boethius Project, online. 89 Bately 1986b: 42. 90Wormald 2001: 429. For Alfred as a lay intellectual, who needed not only divine wisdom but also practical knowledge and skills obtained through experience and practices, see Abels 2007. 91 Pratt 2007b. The image of Alfred combines the historical person and the many later scholarly analyses of him and his reign. Keynes (2003:197) resists the idea of a multiplicity of ‘different Alfreds’, and prefers to see an integrated Alfred. 92 Keynes 2003:175. 93 See, e.g. Brooks 1979; Wormald 1983; Nelson 1993; Davis 1998; Foot 1999b; Reuter 2003; Pratt 2007a.

512 The North in the Old English Orosius

What has become evident, though, is that there was a growing sense of a shared identity, a conception based on various factors, including language, government, and leadership. After the submission of Kent, Mercia, and Wessex to Alfred’s rule in 886, the term Angelcynn was used to define this new entity which united people under one leader, law, and allegiance. The idea of an English nation, gens anglorum,, was first formulated as a religious identity by Bede in the early eighth century,94 but it was truly developed by Alfred, who was trying to foster a personal and cultural feeling of belonging to the Angelcynn, "English people, all Englishkind’, a people with a shared past and a cultural, linguistic, and legal unity. Alfred was the first king to call himself "King of the Angles and Saxons’ or "King of the AngloSaxons’. With these titles, he claimed rulership over all the English, i.e. the West Saxons, the Mercians, and the people of Kent. How real or wide­ spread this identity was is another matter. It may not have made sense beyond the small aristocratic Wessex elite. Foot thinks that in reality, Englishness was probably a West-Saxon concept which existed alongside other identities and that the making of England did not take place during Alfred’s reign.95 According to Pratt, the use of Angelcynn reflects defensive anti-Viking lordship.96 There was nevertheless a need for a unity and a need for a sense of common origin in the Christian bastion of Alfred’s England. The Viking invasions were the catalyst for the formation of the kingdom of England; they eventually provided a sense of common identity among the various Anglo-Saxon peoples. The context they provided for the formulation of a distinctively Alfredian political order, which lasted for about forty years (886 to 927), was perhaps the most significant aspect of the Viking impact on England in the ninth century.97 All vernacular prose of Alfred’s reign relates in complex ways to the fostering or emergence of national identity and ideas about the unifying possibilities of language, myths, and traditions, and demonstrates that the

94 Wormald 1983: 125. Richter (1984) argues that the Angli in Bede’s HE were already "English’. 95 For Angelcynn in ASC 886, the introduction to the laws, and the preface to the Pastoral Care, and for its meaning, see Keynes and Lapidge 1983: 38-40; Keynes 1998a: 24-26; Foot 1999a; Foot 1999b: 197-201. For ‘English’ and ‘English consciousness’, see Wormald 1983:120-126. 96 Pratt 2007a: 107, 111. 97 Keynes 1997b: 62.

The Alfredian Context 513

past and its relationship to the present often preoccupied the king.98 For instance, Davis interprets the engagement in international relations of the past in the preface to the Pastoral Care from the point of view of national identity. The relations create a narrative about a series of border-crossings, during which the English went abroad to war and foreigners came to England in search of wisdom.1These events represent the past as an oiganized series of international events by means of which England pros­ pered.99 This example is one illustration of how early medieval authors drew on standard patterns and expectations when they were trying to create a coherent story about their past.100 Stanton, on the other hand, makes a good case for the idea that Alfred's aim was to regain past glories and to remake himself as a literate and eloquent ruler.101 Some of James Campbell’s observations have particular relevance to attempts to place King Alfred in his historical context in this study. Campbell characterizes Alfred’s England as a quasi-theocratic state (or at least there were aspirations towards this condition), which was strictly run, where the Church came under increased royal control, and where Alfred’s educational campaign formed the core. Campbell finds Alfred’s relation­ ship to the Scandinavians to be one of the most complex aspects of Alfred’s activities, and states that “it is in regard to the Scandinavians and their world that the greatest difficulties and the widest possibilities arise”. The relationship was ambiguous or multifaceted: the Vikings were enemies, but the Anglo-Saxons had detailed knowledge of them; they could be peaceful Christians, as shown by Asser’s mention of a monk of paganicae gentis, ‘of Viking origin’, at Athelney,102 and there were peaceful contacts with other people from Viking lands, such as Ohthere. Campbell is certain that the main English sources misrepresent the balance of antagonism and assimilation between the Anglo-Saxons and the Scandinavians, but it is impossible to tell the extent of this misrepresen­ tation. He also points out that Alfred’s power and success had economic bases, and that Wessex was still wealthy, and that Alfred had been known to plunder, manipulate, and take control for economic gain. Alfred’s world 98 For language use and identity, see Stanton 2002: 55-56. 99 Davis 1998: 621, 624, 626. 100 For using the past, see Innes 2000b. 101 Stanton 2002: 56. 102 Asser 94; Keynes and Lapidge 1983: 103, 272 n. 233. This monk could have been Oda, a Dane who became archbishop of Canterbury (941-958). Asser says that he was assuredly not the only one of them to become a monk.

514 The North in the Old English Orosius

was nevertheless a new one, and one which he and succeeding generations had to create.103 Explaining the Old English Orosius There is no letter or a preface attached to the OE Or. which would explain the translation. The Latin original was much-copied, although, despite the survival of over two hundred and fifty manuscript, it has been said that it was not especially well-known, and that there were many other history books that could have been translated.104 There has been relatively little research on why Orosius’s History was translated but the suggested explanations derive from the retrievable or assumed ideology in the OE Or., other contemporary writings, and the political situation at the time. The overall context is one of political and spiritual Christian notions and remembrance of the past in the emerging English identity. The translation may have been partly motivated by an interest in history and Christianity, since the past was given great significance in Alfred’s time. This interest is reflected in the fact that Alfred’s own ancestral genealogy extended further into the past, and that other works on history were produced, but the OE Or. was the only book on world or Roman history to be translated. The OE Or., the OE translation of Bede’s HE, and the A SC are all from the Alfredian period and they complement each other: Orosius covers ancient history, Bede takes over from the migrations to England (leaving out the period of Roman rule), and the A SC covers the rest.105 This could have served both political and religious purposes, explaining how Alfred’s England came to be and what events led to it. The OE Or. is often associated with the Viking threat, which would have found parallels in the earlier calamities described in Orosius’s History. The Viking troubles were reminiscent of wars that had taken place in 103 Campbell 2003b: 15,17, 22 (quote). 104 Bately 1980c: 10-11. 105 Keynes and Lapidge 1983: 33; Kretzschmar 1987: 142-43; Gilles 1998: 84; contra Bately (1980c: 11) who does not think the works were selected to comple­ ment each other. The ASC C and the later version of the OE Or. are both in Tiberius B.i. Smyth (1995: 529-530) believes that there was a more coherent plan in the translation of these three works than in those translated by Alfred: they anchor England, Wessex, and Alfred’s royal house to the ancient and Christian pasts, and provide the audience with a rationale for the role of the AngloSaxons/English in world history.

The Alfredian Context 515

ancient history, particularly the sack of Rome by the Goths. Orosius and the English would have shared the “threat of being overwhelmed by pagan barbarian peoples, and the danger that Christians would adopt pagan practices”.106 Bately and Irvine suggest that the message of the Latin original would have been appealing in late ninth-century England. The message that Rome did not fall because of its conversion would have .echoed the Danish invasions. Orosius’s aim would have mirrored in the Anglo-Saxon author’s message: that the desertion of the old gods did not cause the Viking attacks, just as it did not cause the sack of Rome by the Goths. Rome had its place in the Christian world and in the grander Christian scheme of things, to which the Goths also belonged. Similarly, Anglo-Saxon England had its place in God’s world. The Vikings were a part of the master-plan to establish England’s status as a glorious Christian nation.107 The importance of Christian history of the world and England’s place within it were motivating factors for the author of the OE Or. Kretzschmar sees also teleological messages in the OE Or. He suggests that the translator reduced the original to a simple series of actions, and that he was interested in presenting moral actions from the past as ex­ amples for the English. The translator also wanted to reveal the workings of God’s Grand Design in history, explaining that there was hope for the English in the providential pattem. By manipulating the original text, the translator gave the impression that Rome was not the final kingdom in God’s design but there was hope for Alfred’s England in it. This was practical historical wisdom, but may still have ultimately been academic. Kretzschmar cannot see any signs that it was put to use.108 There may be another, more pragmatic, Roman connection in the translation of the OE Or. Alfred’s government was criticized by Rome and by the Pope for its overly tolerant attitude towards heathenism and the Vikings, i.e. for a decline in religious standards among the clergy and the inadequacy of missionary efforts. After the rebuke, the situation improved by the implementation of the educational campaign and the arrival of foreign advisers. Even though the heathens in question would have been resident in Britain, it is possible that the OE Or. was part of the efforts that curbed papal hostility and that were connected to the important 106 Brooks 1979: 13-14. 107 Bately 1991: 78; Irvine 2001: 141-143. 108 Kretzschmar 1987. Hunter (1974: 44) also thinks that the OE Or. intended to show the apocalyptic history of the universe and Britain.

516 The North in the Old English Orosius

relationship between Rome and England.109 From this perspective, the geography of Germania and the travel accounts may imply something about intellectual attitudes or intentions towards northern lands which were still pagan. If we accept the theory that the OE Or. gives England providential hope and that, in the mind of the author, history under the guidance of God’s authority continued beyond Rome, there would have been a need to extend the Orosian Roman geography to regions which were relevant to the English experience, in terms of their ancestry, current politics, and future plans. In the English version, Christianity and God’s design in­ cluded the whole world as the translator, or Alfredian circles, knew it. In this respect, it is fitting that both the geography of Germania and the Ohthere-Wulfs tan interpolation contain knowledge that has a timeless or static character, as was typical of Roman and early medieval geography. Harris also links the translation of Orosius’s History with the emer­ gence of a new identity, through which the Anglo-Saxons began to under­ stand themselves to be a single people in ethnic and religious terms. He argues, however, that scholars should see beyond the current picture of Alfredian politics and England as a single political unity. They should see England in the larger context of all of the Christians of the island of Britain, which would have been how the producers of the OE Or. saw it For instance, the translator omits references to defeats or the barbaric qualities of the Germanic peoples, and presents them in a more sympa­ thetic light than Orosius.110 King Alfred’s vision of a single common ethnic and religious identity extended to all the Christian and Germanic inhabitants of Britain, the Vikings included. In other words, the Angles and Saxons in England shared a common religion and a common ethnic identity, which was not the case in Bede’s time. By Alfred’s time, ethnic identity and religious identity had become combined. This is what Harris recognizes as Christendom, a religio-ethnic order of identity “shaped by pan-Germanic polity” (and not the same as Christianity), which offered Alfred and his circle an imperial vision. The Vikings were part of this vision: in it they were of the same blood, race or ancestry, and faith as Alfred’s Anglo-Saxons. According to this theory, Alfred is not unlike a 109 Irvine 2003: 74-77. 110 Cf. Gilles 1998: 82. Frank (1982: 58) writes that unlike Orosius, the author of the OE Or. “does not think exclusively in religious way: what matters is how rulers of the past served God’s purpose, not whether they were Christian or pagans”.

The Alfredian Context 517

new Roman emperor propagating an expanding geographical vision of Christian unity.111 The new geography of Germania and the travel accounts make sense in a pan-Germanic frame and within the idea of Christendom. The un­ critical description of northernmost Germania supports the theory that the notion of religious and racial unity underlies the OE Or. The theory of ethnic and ancestral themes also supports the idea of the geographical foci in the narrative. Harris does not discuss the geography or the travel accounts in the OE Or., although they contain allusions to ancestry. There were other changes to Orosius’s geography besides the expan­ sion of northern Germania. The author added pieces of new or clarifying information to both the geographical and the historical sections. These include minor corrections, simplifications (using shorter names), and particularizing additions, practically all of which could have been derived from Latin texts. In the historical section, the additions deal with the names of towns and lands. The majority of the rewriting concerns contin­ ental Europe, but some of the changes revise information about marginal places, such as the location of Scotland, Ireland’, on the western boundary of Europe. The comment that Thule is þœtytem este land, ‘the furthest land’, may derive from ultima Thule. The author refers to it as land and not as an island, and leaves out Orosius’s statement that Thule was in the middle of the ocean. The mention of Thule marks the end of the description of the geography of Europe. These modifications may derive from a better understanding of the north-west Atlantic than Orosius or his sources had. Suggested sources for this passage are Isidore, Solinus, Jordanes, Pliny, Orosius, and Martianus Capella. Of the various features of classical descriptions of the northern edge of the world, the Rhipaen Mountains and the Sarmatian Ocean are retained in the OE Or.112 The description of Greece, Italy, Spain, and Britain are not dramatically changed, but they do contain details that reflect the conditions in the ninth century or somewhat earlier.113 111 Harris 2001. For Orosius’s boundless and imperial geography, see Merrills 2005: 69. 112 OE Or. 8/24 Riffeng, 13/13 Riffen; 8/25 Sarmondisc. 113 OE Or. 19/18-20: Þonne be mstannorban Ibemia isþœtytemeste landþœt man hœt Thila, 7 him isfeamm mannum cubfor bare oferfyrre. Then to the north-west of Ireland is that utmost land called Thule, which is known to few, on account of its distance.’ Trans. Pauli 1895: 259. See Bately 1972; Bately 1980a: lxiii-lxx, 158-159,163, 171, 202-204, 206, 312. Changes to the geography include the mention of Scotland,

518 The North in the Old English Orosius

The questions of authorship and authority are interesting in terms of the motivation for the insertion of the accounts. Although the translator’s voice can be detected in the work, Orosius is emphasized as the authority and original source of the information by the repetition of the phrase ‘Orosius said’. The various changes have prompted Godden to suggest that, by foregrounding and objectifying Orosius, the translator may have been questioning Orosius’s views on history and treating him with subde irony. This approach to Latin authorities can also be detected in trans­ lations attributed direcdy to Alfred, such as the Soliloquies and the Boethius. In the Boethius, Alfred seems to be talking to his audience about problems of government, but there is ambiguity about who is actually speaking, Alfred or the fictional Boethius whom Alfred had created. Godden thinks that the geographical detail in the OE Or. may be equivalent of the expansions of classical allusions which are characteristic of the Alfredian adaptation of Boethius’s work.114 The mention of Alfred at the beginning of Oh there’s account is not only a reference to Alfred’s authority, but also to Orosius’s. The inserter diminishes Orosius’s authority by adding digressions that are credited to two travellers and linked to Alfred.115 This supports Godden’s theory that there are subtle ironies associated with Orosius’s authority in the OE Or. Other personas, not Orosius, describe the North which Orosius had left out. The travel accounts do not present such complicated contexts as the Boethius and the Soliloquies, but nevertheless, they show how questions of authority, trust, and the reliance on the testimony of others are in the background in all these works. Godden also points out that the adapted passages in the OE Or. and the Boethius are not marked as ‘Alfredian’ and

‘Ireland’ (9/10); the simplification of Italy and the Alps (18/19-23); the addition of Centlond, ‘Kent’ (126/6); the addition of Säppiä land (12/10); the replacement of Carthagena with Cordofa, ‘Córdoba’, the 9th-century capital of Muslim Spain (104/30); the correct identification of Spain and the ocean (18/29-30); the accur­ ate revision of the description of France excluding Brittany (18/24-35); the rewriting of the descriptions of Istria and Pannonia (18/15-18); the addition of Alexandria (8/21); and the rearrangement of the sources of the Nile (11/3-20). The British Isles or Ireland are not described in detail—in fact, some information from the original version has been left out—but Britain’s dimensions are given (19/11-20). 114 Godden 2003b: 9-28. Godden regards the OE Or. as an ‘Alfredian’ translation. 115 Marincola (1997: 11) points out that in ancient historical texts, many major episodes are explained or analyzed in digressions.

The Alfredian Context 519

that the audience would not have known what was ‘Alfredian’. He sees the translations as adaptations of their originals which were intended to “create a body of Anglo-Saxon literature which explored ideas in an imagined setting”, to the extent that past wisdom was replaced rather than reproduced.116 In the case northern Germania, however, there was litde to replace, but plenty to invent So, has the northern geography associations with symbolic power over or expansion of Christendom to the North by a Christian leader, King Alfred, and ultimately by papal power in Rome? Or is it concerned with the ideas of integration and peace, and perhaps even the unity of race, at an intellectual and contemplative level, and with the establishing of peace among various Germani peoples by God’s authority and Christendom, as an idea in the literary imagination? Is the representation of the North related to desperation over the Viking situation? Was every measure, such as engaging with northern chieftains, taken to secure peace, stability, and wealth of the kingdom? This would have been the duty of a successful king who was faithful to God and who perceived religion as a way to pacify political tensions. Sources from the Alfredian period indicate that there was an acceptance of a common background and kinship among the English, the Vikings, and the Goths. The examination of the description of the North from various view­ points and in various contexts in this study suggests that the OE Or. may be a subtle way of reaching out for unity within Christendom in search for peace. The northern geography may have been associated with a desire to accept the North and its inhabitants as part of the same world to which the Anglo-Saxons belonged during Alfred’s reign. The accounts may also have been associated with the idea of peaceful relations with the Vikings, or at least educate its audience of this idea. They would function in a similar role as Orosius’s geographical introduction in the original work— the preparation of a meditative frame of mind. This would have been a careful articulation of contemporary new ideas using the vernacular, ex­ ploratory journeys, and tales of pagan rites as devices to leam about and incorporate northern lands into a new geographical worldview. Safe travel was also a mark of political stability. All this was associated with the authority of Alfred and eye-witness reports. One of the core elements in historical narratives of nationalism is that the story has to be about £us’: the past or foreign elements have to be 116 Godden 2003b: 6, 27 (quote).

520 The North in the Old English Orosius

made into ‘us’, and a continuity has to be conveyed. This is achieved most effectively by implication, by selecting elements such as heroes, events, legends, and places, and describing heterogeneity as variation within ’us’. The past is conceived as owned and it can bring various responsibilities or be employed in various ways in the present.11718When the travel accounts are seen in this context, the representation of the North appears to resemble the pagan past of the Anglo-Saxons, while it also reveals that northern peoples have similar practices and interests to those of the Anglo-Saxons. Make books, not war The OE Or. was most likely part of the educational campaign which Alfred instigated and which is described by him in the prose letter attached to the Pastoral Care.n s Evaluations of the state of learning and knowledge of Latin vary, as do those of the relationship between OE and Latin and between oral and written practices shordy before and during Alfred’s time.119 There are persuasive arguments for the idea of a complex situation where both Latin learning and written OE existed to some extent before Alfred’s reign.120 There are views proposing that Alfred was (slighdy?) exaggerating about the decline of teaching and learning and the poor knowledge of Latin in the late ninth century.121 However, some experts believe that Alfred describes a real collapse of skills, due in part to the Vikings.122 Alfred’s translations and other sources from his reign are usually seen as articulating the king’s own thoughts and strategies about the ideal and real Anglo-Saxon societies. It is acknowledged that the use of the written word for the advancement of political purposes is distinctively

117 Svanberg 2003, Part 1: 34-35. 118 Sweet 1958, Part 1: 2-8. 119 Cf. McGowan 2001b: 36. 120 Keynes (2003: 182-198) describes a ‘pragmatic literacy’ in the 9th century; cf. Hines 2004:42. 121 Wormald 1991:143-144; Magennis 2001: 88. 122 Lapidge (1996c) adheres to the grimmer picture. Gneuss (1996) considers the preface reliable in terms of the information it gives about the state of learning. Dumville (2005: 320) sees elite complacency and the Vikings as causes for the de­ cline of high-quality and high-volume manuscript production in England after c. 850. Wormald (1982:139) also sees the Vikings as a cause for book destruction.

The Alfredian Context 521

Alfredian.123 It is not uncommon for powerful people in particular to tell morally-charged stories about themselves, their relations to a divine order, and social relations within their community.124 Royal courts at the time were textual communities, where the written word accumulated know­ ledge and authority. Alfredian sources combined Roman, Christian, Anglo-Saxon, and Germani ideas and models. They provided authoritative ways to approach the world and to achieve political aims, such as security against the Vikings and for a Christian nation. Lerer has apdy described how Alfred united a “virtual empire of thought”, where texts provided a new place for people to unite.125 Gneuss argues that the audience for Alfred’s translations could not have been large, and that attempts to detect various political agendas in the Alfredian literature presupposes that the texts were meant to be distributed efficiently and quickly, which may not have been the case.126 The reception of the texts is more difficult to estimate than Alfred’s intentions with regard to his audience. For instance, Pratt argues that the king was familiar with his aristocratic audience’s expectations and had to maintain a personal image and integrity that matched the ideological messages in his translation campaign.127 In the preface to the Pastoral Care, Alfred refers to the Vikings as divine retribution for the sad state of learning and decline in Christian virtues in Anglo-Saxon England. Even though such association between decline and reprisals would have been familiar to Alfred from his reading, the situation was real, and he had witnessed both phenomena himself and linked them together.128 The preface also contains two references to peace. After the greeting and lamentation over the wise men of the past, powerful kings in Angekynn, Alfred says that “they not only maintained their peace, morality and power at home but also extended their territory outside; and how they succeeded both in war and in wisdom”.129 He writes that the education of 123 Keynes 2003: 197. Cubitt (2003b: 7) considers it unlikely that Alfred was the sole instigator of the education reforms. 124 Duncan 1990: 20. 125 Lerer 1991: 92, 95. 126 Gneuss 1996: 40. 127 Pratt 2007a: 171. Pratt (pp. 178-192) also discusses technological innovations in book production (e.g. book-pointers) during Alfred’s reign. 128 Gneuss 1996: 39. 129 Sweet 1958, Part 1:2: ...hu hi œgðer ge hiora sibbe ge hiora sido ge hiora amvald innanbordes gehioldon,